


DNA code

by lithium_breath



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Angst, Apocalypse, Character Death, Character Development, Drama, F/F, F/M, Family first, Fighting for Survival, Gore, Heartbreak, Might be triggering for some people, More tags to be added, Older Man/Younger Woman, Physical Abuse, Self Harm, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Soul Bond, Underage Sex, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships, Violence, War, Zombies, but there's an original plot, daryl is a sweetheart, daryl is our favorite redneck, expect the unexpected, i!need!more!tags, idk man, is negan really that bad?, lucille does count as a character, more original characters to be added, plot twists af, romance is only a small part of the story, some characters might be alive, some suicide mentions idk, spoilers for some seasons, t-dog deserves to be alive, the walking dead - Freeform, there's a lot of shit on the first chapters honestly, zombie apocalypse struggles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-22
Updated: 2016-06-09
Packaged: 2018-06-10 01:31:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 22,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6932413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lithium_breath/pseuds/lithium_breath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Since the very start of the apocalypse, Mathilda has been protected from the terrifying world outside. This might be a blessing considering that people are cruel and monsters are roaming the earth, but it might also be a curse - <i>not not facing your fears might let them swallow you later. </i><br/><br/>While things got worse out there, her father, the kindest man she had ever met, decided to build an empire: an empire of sorrow, pain, violence, death and torture, in order to protect his daughter from everything that might harm her.<br/>Negan, who used to be Mathilda’s hero, is now the man she fears the most. And she knows he needs to be stopped, no matter how much it costs.<br/>In order to detain his psychopath of a father, Mathilda joins the most fearless group of survivors she has ever encountered and finds out that there are more than walkers out there. There is pain, there is sorrow, there is love, and there is a pair of blue, sad eyes that are always glued to hers no matter when, where or how.<br/>And after finding out Negan's dirty secrets, after having her life turned upside down and after deciding to kill the man who raised her, Mathilda has come to a conclusion:<br/>This might be her last day on earth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. change.

**Author's Note:**

> firstly!!! thank you sooooo much for reading my story. i appreciate it so much, it means a lot to me. let me just give y'all some warnings:
> 
> \- this is my first fanfiction ever, so pls excuse my ridiculous writing skills. i'm trying to improve and i write because i love it, not because i want to be perfect (even though that would be fucking amazing lmao);  
> \- there will be a lot of swearing, death, violence, sex scenes and violent scenes so please, if you do not feel comfortable with these type of scenes please, do not read!!  
> \- english is not my native language and i do not live in an english speaking country, so i might do some mistakes. please correct me whenever you feel like and help me improve my english!! that would be great. excuse me if there are some spelling and grammar mistakes.  
> \- some characters might be alive, some characters might be dead; this story doesn't follow all the story line, and there will be some differences.  
> \- i update on wednesdays and sundays!!
> 
> thank you guys soooo much for reading and i see y'all on the next chapter!!

_change – to become different; to make (someone or something) different; to become something else._

 

Growing up it had always been the two of us - my father and I. Mother was always out of the picture, and I had trouble growing up without her. It just felt different, you know? My friends had their mothers explaining them how to be a woman, how to deal with period pains, how to cook, how to braid their hair, but I didn’t. My father was the one who taught me all those things, and I couldn’t be more thankful, He raised me and he was a father and a mother at the same time.

I honestly have no idea why mother left us. My dad _was_ the most beautiful and kind man I had ever met in my entire life. Why would she abandon her new born daughter and her wonderful husband? It still haunts me, you know, all the thoughts about my mother leaving and why she would do that to me, but I suppose she had a good reason. At least that's the thought that keeps me going everyday.

Dad always had little to say about her and when he did say something, he was very careful with his words. It looked like he didn’t want me to hate my mother. He told me nice things about her, how she used to make him breakfast in the morning, how much she loved her job and the way her eyes lit up when I was born and she held me. He described her curly brown hair and her pale skin almost in a magical way, he could talk about her soft hands and about her gorgeous smile for hours, but that was all. He never mentioned her name and when I asked, he always told me to stay away from adult’s business, that I shouldn’t be bothering myself so much about something that was now out of my life forever. But deep down, he just _knew_ how much I needed my mother. So he dug deep under his bed, where he once buried everything about my mother, and he gave me a picture of her. I was 10 when he got me that picture. I always carried it with me in my wallet; it was the most beautiful picture I had ever seen. I was just a baby, and my beloved mother was holding me on her arms, trying to get me to sleep. She was so beautiful, but she looked so tired. She also looked so full of love and light while looking at me.

_Why would she leave me?_

When I questioned grandma about my birth giver, she simply told me that she had only been a bump on my father’s road and that he was over her. My grandmother didn’t like mother very much; not at all, I mean. And at the age of 8, I hadn’t been able to understand the meaning of being a bump on someone’s road, but I never questioned. I simply shrugged my shoulders and went back to playing with my dolls without a caring in the goddamn world. I loved my dad, and that was enough at the time.

Even though it was only the two of us struggling to understand each other, I loved my little family dearly. Despite being a single father, my father was the _best_ on the entire world. He was my superhero and, in a way, one of the town’s heroes: he was a fire fighter and everyone respected him thanks to that. After all, he was risking his life to protect the citizens and their belongings. On career day at school, he was always the first one to arrive and the last one to leave. He was the type of person you should look up to: he was all smiles and hugs, impressive speeches and encouragements which made you want to be a better person. And every time he arrived home covered in dust, with sweat on his forehead and his cool fire fighter hat on his hand, _fuck,_ I felt safe. I felt our little reality was untouchable, because I had a superhero to protect me.

Nevertheless, I eventually grew up and I started realising things; I realised that people actually lost their lives while fighting fires, I realised that my father’s life was in danger every time he was called to be the town’s hero, I realised that we weren’t untouchable – actually, we were way too exposed to the cruel world outside.

I still remember when I started fearing for his life. It was summer time and the world was literally on fire due to the rising of temperatures. I just couldn’t stand the thought of him risking his life out there and leaving me; leaving me alone just like my mother did. I’ve always been a nervous kid and all these disasters didn't calm me down. I was at my grandma’s when she received a call from my father’s work. He was at the hospital. There had been a car explosion, and he was too near of the explosion not to be harmed. There were burns all over his body and I thought I was going to see my father dying in my arms. But he was strong and he eventually went through it, and he started working again. I didn’t react well, I had a mental breakdown and my father decided I needed a break. _He_ , the one who was risking his life, didn’t need a break – _I_ was the one who needed it. I was sent away to a summer camp away from home and it was hell on earth. I didn’t fit in, I hated it and all the radio transmissions about fires and fire fighters burning to death scared the shit out of me. I just didn’t find his job amusing nor heroic in any way anymore.

I was 13 when I realised that I just wanted _his career_ to be over.  

Now, at the age of 17, I just want _his person_ to be over.

He used to come up to me covered in dust, dirt and sweat; he used to hold me tightly onto him and then invite me for a tea party with all my dolls; those were _the_ days. Nowadays, you don’t see my father covered in dust anymore. He’s somehow always covered in fresh blood, dry blood and brains all over his clothes. He doesn’t carry his fire fighter hat on his hands anymore; instead, he carries that damn fucking bat wrapped in wire, and he treats it like it’s his fucking adopted daughter.

The world has gone mad.

My father has gone mad.

_I’m going mad._

 

My father used to be known as the town’s hero.

Now, he’s known a brutal, smart, ferocious, dangerous and frightening psychopath.

Now, my loving father is known as **Negan** – both a leader and a killer.

 

He’s not, however, known as the father of a 17-year-old teenager.

 

_That should be me._


	2. 1. chance.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mathilda doesn't know what to do about her father, but time is running out.  
> However, sometimes help comes from the most unexpected places.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello guys!! today is wednesday so there you go, another update.  
> i do know that things are going veeeeeryyyy slowly but that's how they're supposed to go. also, don't forget that the story might not follow the story line and that Negan's character might not be completely accurate to what you're expecting while he's with his daughter. he's a different person when she's around. and believe me, it might be a short appearance, but this is definitely not the last of negan.  
> anyways, i noticed there were some mistakes on the last chapter, so i'm going to correct them right now. i apologise for any further mistakes.  
> thank you so much for your feedback, y'all amazing.  
> enjoy this new chapter and see y'all next sunday!!

_chance – an occasion that allows something to be done; opportunity._

 

I wasn’t sure.

  
And I needed to be sure before I made a move.

  
You couldn't hear a sound near these walls; no walker groans, no human breathing nor talking, not even gunshots, and believe me, these were pretty usual around here. But the house being silent didn't didn’t mean _he_ wasn’t around. That was what scared me the most about him, about this new person he has become; he used to be a loud person, his eyes used to lit up and his voice used to get a pitch higher at the thought of talking about something he loved, but now he has the skills of a hunter: he’s silent, dangerous, and he’s probably carrying the damn thing around the house ready to use it on someone. I know he won’t hit me, try to hurt me or even yell at me, but he’ll ask questions. And Negan asking questions will lead to me answering them and Jesus getting into trouble. And I can’t afford him getting into trouble, not after what he’s been to me.

  
It’s been three years since the outbreak and two years since dad turned into a psychopath. I try to keep up with time as much as I can in order not to lose my mind, but it's hard. If it's hard for a normal person who's out there to keep up with the years, it's even harder for me. It's even harder because I tend not to think about the years I spend locked in this house. It's not like I've never been outside these walls; I have, of course, but I haven't seen the sunlight for like, _what?_ 6 months, 7 months? - basically since everything started getting even more dangerous, and I started getting really afraid of him.

  
I never expected my father to stay the same hero, the same great man with ethic and values he once had been, but I didn’t also expect him to name a baseball bat, wrap it in wire and bash people’s heads with it either. I just expected something saner. After all, there’s enough insanity outside these walls.

  
And the fact that he has endless wives... well, that just makes me sick. He used to be so shy and he was definitely an introverted person, but now he's just fucking around - _literally_  just fucking them around. They’re not even women he goes to bed with often; no, they’re actually mentioned as his fucking wives. The other men aren't allowed to talk to them, touch them or even look at them; they're my father's property. That's what I don't understand, and that's what makes me sick: they're human beings, they're not an object. Just the thought of this whole nonsense makes me want to puke.

  
As I silently walk on the dark corridors, trying not to bump into something and end up causing a noise, I don’t expect anyone to barge in and murder me or something. That's what makes it safe to sleep at night and maybe that's why I can still live here - I'm protected. I know for a fact that my father would give his life for me and he would die for me. That's what makes me feel safe.  
All the doors are locked in order to keep The Saviors and walkers away. I’ve never been around any of the men who work for my father. I mean, I’ve heard them of course, and I’ve seen them while looking through the windows, but I never talked to them, and if they see me, then they just pretend I don't exist. I don’t even know their names, how much of them there are or why they call themselves Saviors. I just know that they’re the worst kind; I know that they kill, rape, murder, torture, mistreat, vilify. And I know that my dad is the leader, so he’s a part of this –

_hell, he’s the fucking leader._  
When I finally reach the front door, I’m not scared anymore. He’s not here - he can’t, otherwise his wives would all be throwing themselves to him, and I know for a fact that they aren't. Actually, I could hear their annoying high-pitched voices talking to each other from upstairs. He was gone, again. He didn’t tell me anything but honestly, I'm used to it. It would be better for me if he died out there. It's absolutely disgusting for a daughter to say something like that about her father, but I have my reasons. At least innocent people would finally stop dying.

  
When I hear _him_ unlocking the door, I gasp. I knew that _he_ was coming, but I didn’t expect him to come so soon. I had no idea how he always made it towards the building, but he always did and he never failed a single day. And he had the fucking key! How was my father, my smart father, so damn reckless? How did Jesus get the key?

  
When Jesus’ head peeked through the wooden door, I immediately threw myself into his arms. He chuckled and hugged me tight, getting inside the building as soon as he could since it was dangerous outside; it was great to hug someone because I wanted to, and not because I had to – I felt that so many times with my father. I had to hug him so he wouldn't notice that something was wrong. I would hug him and his body would stain my whole clothes with blood. I would pretend everything was fine, that he was my hero, that I was okay, when it wasn't. When I wanted to fucking stab him in the chest. I was done with it, but it was all coming to an end.  
The young man closed the door silently and I thanked the fact that all the windows were closed and covered with cement. There was no way he would be seen out here by any of the Saviors. We should be fine.

  
‘I’m so glad to see you!’ I whispered, holding onto his bright eyes. Paul was more than a friend to me. He played the role of my big brother and my anchor – the only thing that kept me sane on a world like this. If only my dad knew... he would kill him, so we needed to be careful every time we met. ‘How did it go?’

  
The smile plastered on his face showed me everything that I wanted: it went well. I was going to be free; I was going to be okay and my father’s dictatorship would finally be over. It wouldn’t solve the disease nor the dead roaming the earth nor the fact that I was lost on such a fucked up world, but it would solve 70% of my problems.

  
_Okay, maybe 60%. Or something._

 

Paul kept his voice low while talking to me.

  
‘They’re good people. They’ve been through a lot together, but they have rules, a plan, and they said they don’t mind ending all of this. They’re on our side now.’ I smiled even widely, and Jesus hugged me tight again. Even though I was his worst enemy's daughter, I grew on him - and he grew in my heart as well. He was the one I felt I could trust. ‘We’re going to win this fight, but you can’t stay here. They’re going to blow this entire thing down to ashes.’

  
I swallowed the lump on my throat; it had been there for a long time, but I suppose I only became aware of it when I actually understood the meaning of a fight. Bullets, knives, blood, all of that... I wasn't familiar with that. I did _not_ like that, not at all.  
I knew what had to be done and I wanted it to be done, but there was so much to handle in so little time. I wanted Negan, the ruthless monster and killer to be gone, but I wanted to go through the apocalypse with my dad - my caring, beautiful and charming dad who would do anything to protect me.. But I couldn’t have both. And I had made a choice.

  
‘How am I supposed to get out?’ I wasn't going to make it, I knew that for sure. The whole building was full of his wives, who loved to spy me and the whole fucking perimeter was guarded by Saviors. I tried not to think about Lucille and Negan, though; that was the worst. He would bash my head in if I tried to escape. ‘There’s people everywhere. How are you even able to get close to this building? I'm fucked. I won't make it. Oh god, Jesus, I'm going to fuck this whole thing up. People are going to die because of me.’

  
Jesus shook his head in disbelief and grabbed my hands in order to calm me down. It didn't work, though; I was still shaking and freaking out. Why had I been so weak all this time? I couldn't even use a gun. I couldn't protect myself. Oh god. This whole thing was going to go so bad.

  
‘The bathroom, Mathilda!' Jesus was looking around frantically, probably scared that someone would come out and find us. He shook me by the shoulders, as if all the shaking would calm me down and make me think better. It didn't, though. 'Use your head! Isn't there something in the bathroom that you could use?'

  
Good. Fucking good. Now he was talking on charades.

  
'What am I supposed to do? Flush myself down the fucking toilet?!'

Paul actually chuckled and shook his head.

  
'You're a lost cause, I swear to god.' I knew he was joking, but he was right though. My chances of surviving out there were none. 'You told me there's a bathroom on the first floor of this building, right? You drew a map and everything. A shitty one, but yeah.' I nodded my head and chuckled at Jesus' words. 'Great. I've done my research - and I know this is going to sound really gross -, but there's a manhole cover in there.'

  
I raised my eyebrows.

  
'A manhole cover for...?'

  
He sighed.  
'For the sanitary sewer.' I was about to reply, disgusted, when he interrupted me. 'Look, we don't have much time. I know it's gross, it is, but it's your only safe way out.'

  
I gulped; I would have time to think about the disgusting thing that would be happening out there on the fucking sewer for the rest of the night.

The rats man. The fucking rats. And there's going to be shit - literal shit - all around the place, and...

And I needed to escape. It wasn't the time to act like a child. I could do it.

  
'Is it safe?'

  
'Cleared from walkers, I checked it.' He assured, and I nodded my head, a little less concerned. At least I wouldn't have to fight those monsters... at least not yet. 'I drew you a map.' He handed me a dirty piece of paper, and I opened it while it was in my hands. ‘We don’t have much time, so I’ll be really quick on explaining you everything.’ I nodded and I got closer to him in order to hear his now low voice. He was pointing towards the buildings and places he drew in the map, showing me directions. ‘Negan is going to visit Hilltop tomorrow at 3 o’clock, so he’s going to be out for a long time since it’s a two hour drive. This is the perfect time for you to get out.’

  
'What if the Saviors get me? I don't know, I'm not sure about this Jesus. Maybe we should wait, and...'

  
‘Mathilda, listen to me!’ He snapped, his voice covered in urgency and worry. ‘We don’t have time nor room to discuss this. You have to find out a way, be silent and be quick. The Saviors aren’t that smart, but they’re armed to the teeth and they’re scared to death of your father. You need to leave Mathilda, you really do. Things are going to get worse out here as soon as Negan finds out you left. He's going to freak out.'

  
'Okay, let's imagine I can actually get out which is, honestly, not going to happen...' I whispered the last part, so Jesus couldn't hear me. 'Where do I find you?'

  
‘There’s a road you’re going to have to find, it’s right here, right next to the exit.’ He pointed all the way south to a road right next to a river. ‘You go all the way down to South and as soon as you find this road, you wait for someone to show up. They’re probably driving a bright orange Jeep, you’ll know it’s them when you see it. Just tell them you’re Mathilda, the one Jesus told them about, and they’ll take you with them.’

_What in the actual fuck?_

  
‘Take me with them?! I thought I was staying with you?’

  
Jesus shook his head. My world kinda fell down in that moment.

  
‘Look, Mathilda, as soon as you disappear, Negan is going to go nuts. He might even blow up this place by himself, what do you think he’ll try to do to Hilltop? He's going to think we kidnapped you or something. If these people want to destroy him and save us from his torture, they need something to manipulate him with - his sacred treasure.'

  
‘I’m like a bait, then?’

  
Jesus sighed, and I saw hurt on his eyes. I honestly didn’t mean to hurt him; it was a legit question. I just wanted to know my role on all of this.

  
‘They respect you for what you’re trying to do even though he’s your father, Mathilda. I can’t give you further information, you’re going to have to trust me.' He grabbed me by the shoulders, and we looked each other right in the eye. I didn't break eye contact, and he didn't either. I felt like I was home while looking into his beautiful eyes. _' Do you trust me, Mathilda?'_

  
He was my brother, he was the only person I cared about on the entire earth.

  
‘Of course I do.’

  
I was then embraced by his strong figure; he put his arms around me and I rested my head on his chest.

  
‘Then do as I told. We’ve been talking about this for weeks and now it’s time to do what we’re supposed to do. You can do this, Mathilda. You know you can.’

  
I nodded my head frenetically, and I gulped in fear. I could do it. I surely could.

  
‘I’ll see you tomorrow, then? Will you visit me while I’m with them?’

  
‘I will as soon as Negan leaves Hilltop. It’s a one hour drive from Hilltop to there, so we’ll meet sooner than you expect.’

  
I nodded, and we both heard something happening on the second floor. Maybe my father's wives were arguing or something. The voices were a trigger to both of us. Jesus reacted immediately, and opened the exit door. He looked both ways before leaving, and then glanced by his shoulder.

  
'I'll see you tomorrow, okay? You can do this.'

  
I nodded.  
I would have to make it.  
I had no training whatsoever, I was weak, I was scared, _but fuck off, I was Negan's daughter._  
I had psychopath's blood in my bloodstream.

 

~-~-~-~

  
'Where's my baby girl?'  
His voice scared the shit out of me. I could tell it was late out there since it was pretty dark and you could see the moon and the stars up in the sky. I was in my room reading an old book I had found and thinking about Jesus' plan when I heard his voice. Firstly I thought he was talking to one of his disgusting wives, but he wasn't. He was talking to me.  
I swallowed, hard, and I prayed to god that he wasn't drunk. He was the worst when he was drunk. He would turn into another whole different person and I didn't know which one was the worst. He would start crying, he would start talking about my mother and that she shouldn't have left him, he would go outside, kill someone with Lucille, come back inside and fuck one of his wives. It was weird. It was too fucking weird for me to deal with.  
He knocked on my bedroom's door, and I cleared my throat in order to let my voice sound a little more clear and less emotional. I felt like I was wearing a mask whenever I was with him.

  
'Yes?'

  
He opened the door slightly, and his head peeked through my bedroom. I tried to smile at him, and he smiled back at me. It honestly looked genuine, and I felt happy to see him.

I could see why people were afraid of him. He was a good looking man, his expressions hard as stone and his jaw always tensed; he was muscular, broad-shouldered, and the thought of imagining his calloused hands wrapped around someone's neck sent shivers down my spine.   
I felt like there was an angel and a demon on both my shoulders. The angel was telling me that I needed to get out, help the other group and save all these innocent people, while the demon was telling me that he was my father - he was my blood, he had created an empire that I should manage with him. He was trying to create something while the world out there was burning down to ashes. He was only trying to protect me, and killing my own father was a mistake - and a sin. It's funny though, a demon talking about being a sinner.

  
'Hey dad.' I said, closing the book and standing up, in order to go and hug him. I didn't know how I was still able to hug him, kiss him and tell him I loved him; I guess I'm just a really good actress. 'How was your day?'

  
He entered the room and closed the door behind him and before I could hug him, I saw it.  
He was covered in blood, from his head to his toes; his leather jacket was covered in tiny drops of that red substance while his jeans were completely soaked. His shoes were messing my bedroom's floor, and I noticed they were leaving tracks of a substance that looked like smashed brains behind.

  
_He murdered someone._

  
And there he was, with a smile plastered on his face, with his arms wide open to his daughter after taking the life out of someone, after bashing someone's skull, after probably murdering the father of someone's child.

  
I hated him with all my heart.

  
And I hated him even more when I noticed that he was still holding Lucille, and that the bat was also soaked in blood and it was dripping into my bedroom floor.

  
I felt dirty. I felt invaded. I felt like I was responsible for someone's death.

  
But I couldn't just let my father know my fears, could I? It would make me weaker, it could make me a target.  
Instead of crying, I giggled.

  
'Dad, c'mon, you're all dirty. Go take a shower and then I'll hug you.'

  
He looked at himself, and he giggled along. I was in the verge of tears. He was a monster. He had become a monster and the only thing I could do to stop him was to join another group and let them do the dirty work.

  
'You're right, Princess.' He shook his head while looking down again at himself, and opened the door again. 'I'm a mess. I'm going to take a shower, and then you can tell me all about your day, yeah?'

  
I cringed. What was I supposed to tell him? That I was going to run away in the next afternoon and that he was going to be killed? Oh well. But I nodded and I smiled.

  
'Sure, dad. Are you okay, though? There's a lot of blood...' It wasn't like I actually cared, but I needed to know what happened. He shrugged his shoulders.

  
'It's not mine sweetheart, no need to be worried about your old man.' He smiled in the sweetest way and my heart ached. I missed my dad. I wanted him back. 'It was just a... a misunderstanding that is now completely solved.' He smirked.

  
He was evil.

  
I swallowed, and I nodded. I felt sick. I needed him to get out so I could cry for how long I wanted to.

  
'I'm glad you're not hurt, dad. I love you.' That was all I managed to say.

  
'I loved you too, sweetheart. You're everything I have.'

  
He glanced at me for one last time, and then he closed the door.

  
_He was gone._  
_And so was my sanity._


	3. 2. meet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mathilda always wished to be outside those four walls who kept her prisoner.  
> When she leaves, she finds out that maybe those four walls weren't that bad.  
> Not at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a few warnings before we start:  
> \- i changed the updates to wednesdays and saturdays;  
> \- things are going really slow but this is where things start to heat up. These first three chapters were the beginning of the story; please don't give up on this just because it's been boring. i'm sorry, but it has to be like this. chapter 4 is literally the start of everything.  
> \- i'm sorry if you don't like mathilda's character, but she is really like this at the beginning. she needs to start like this so we can see some character improvement.  
> \- i'm sorry if this chapter is shit but i'm so tired and i have so many exams and i just ugh i'll try to make it up for you on the next chapter.  
> \- thank you for all your support and don't forget to comment, it's so important to get some feedback!  
> \- also this chapter is fuckin huge lmao and it's a fucking rollercoaster  
> \- also i'm not sure about how i should write daryl's accent??? i'll just stick up to every single fanfiction i've read sorry if that makes you uncomfortable, pls let me know if it does.

_meet -  to come into the presence of by chance or arrangement; to come face to face with._

 

_‘Oh my god, look at those!' My high-pitched giggles echoed through the walls in amusement at my dad's words of appreciation. 'Such art! Such fabulous painting skills! My daughter is way too talented!' I giggled again, my 3' 3'' feet figure comically jumping around his huge legs, helplessly trying to jump into his lap. I was a tiny kid, I always had been small. My father finally gave up on teasing me and while laughing, he picked me up and held me in his arms, still looking at my most recent drawings. He kissed me on the forehead, leaving a trail of dust and dirt behind. 'Look at this, you're such a talented girl! Why is this horse pink, though? Does it belong to a beautiful princess like you?'_

_I covered my face with my little baby hands, trying to hide my shame for my father's little knowledge about art._

_'It's a dragon daddy, it's not a horsey!'_

_'Oh...' He looked like he was about to burst into laughter. He knew his statement had been stupid. Or maybe my drawings were shit back then. 'Well, is it a pink dragon that belongs to a princess?'_

_I nodded frantically; that was what I loved the most about him. He would always come home before work, exhausted and wanting to lie down, but he would always spend time with me talking about the "art" I made while he was gone._

_He **was** a great man, my father. _

_He analysed the drawing again, turning it upside down and making me laugh again. He furrowed his eyebrows in order to inspect the piece of art better. 'Oh, and there's a princess in here... I know who this princess is!' He laughed out loud, kissing me in the cheek and still holding me onto his arms. ‘But she looks so clean and beautiful here... What a nice dress she has! However...’ He quickly glanced at me and I showed him my tongue, knowing what was coming. 'Mathilda, darling...' I tried to let go of him, trying to set myself free of his strong grip. Laughing out loud, he put me on the ground and I started backing away, smirking and grinning. I **loved** him. 'It's 6 o'clock. What do we do at 6 o'clock?' I stopped dead on my tracks, staring at my little toddler toes; I knew what was coming, of course I did. 'IT'S BATH TIME!'_

_I burst into laughter again and I started running around the house; dad was also laughing and chasing me, knocking over some chairs and even lamps in the process. He never caught me, though; he didn't even try._

_So I kept on **running, and running, and running,**_

_while Negan chased me._

_I guess things now are just like they used to be back then._

 

~-~-~

I was running. My legs were in flames and my heart wanted to crawl its way up to my mouth and set itself free; when Jesus told me that I had to go all the way down to South, I didn't expected _"all the way"_ to mean _"you have to cross the whole fucking country to get there."_ I have no idea how I was able to get out, though. When Negan left I waited about 30 minutes just to be sure that he wouldn't come back for something. He didn't. So I was quick on doing what I had to do: I put all my belongings on my backpack, I stole some resources from my private food shelves and I prayed to God that I wouldn't need the knife that I had in my pocket right now. I didn't know how to use it and I would rather not have to.

The journey on the sanitary sewer was... well, it was more than disgusting. It wasn't easy to avoid nasty and dirty stuff since it's a fucking sanitary sewer, but at least I wasn't too disgusted of the rats around there. I mean, they looked like they hadn't eaten in days and that they wanted to murder me, but who doesn't want to murder you nowadays?

I had a few scratches on my arms and legs due to the fact that I was a clumsy person running on the woods, but I was fine. All the running and escaping didn’t give me much time to think, though. I avoid thinking about how things are going to be after I join this new group of people; this new group of people I’m blindingly trusting, this new group of people that are going to murder my father. Just like a normal person trying to survive the apocalypse, I have my expectations. I’m hoping for a nice community with nice women, sweet children and men capable of protecting their community and capable of loving each other dearly, and kind elders who remind me of my grandparents.

But again, as I stand here on the woods, all by myself and with only a knife in my pocket, I finally realise how things changed – I had been locked up for months, and when I had been set free, I felt like I had burnt down to ashes, and that I had risen again just like a phoenix. Even though the tall trees and all the animal traps scared the shit out of me, I felt like the woods were my home. I felt free for the first time in my life; maybe I wouldn’t need anyone to protect me all that much. Maybe I could do it by myself.

I’ve always been an insecure person, though. My father didn’t raise me like this, it simply has been there since I was a little child and I was never able to grow out of it. Maybe I'll grow some balls one day.

When I realised that my rambling and my deep thoughts wouldn’t help me find the road Jesus told me I needed to be at before 6 pm, I took the map out of my pocket. Everything written in the map literally screamed that I was going on the right direction, but I couldn’t see the road nor the river Jesus told me about.

_Did I just manage to get myself lost?_

At least there weren’t any walkers around. I didn’t know why though; I saw a few of them while walking my way here of course, but they all seemed oblivious of me. I was scared of them, but the fear didn’t stop me of being smart - throwing rocks or provoking random noises on the opposite direction of mine would send them away and I could continue my journey; but I was just being lucky, of course. I have seen bad times back on the compound and the bad times are _really_ bad. Last time everything went to shit – _like 1 year ago_ – it was really hard to wash away the smell of rotten bodies and blood. Sometimes I still felt like I was crushing pieces of brains and guts with my sneakers while I walked down the endless corridors of the building. Those were bad times – yet, I’m really good at forgetting things I really don’t want to remember, which makes things easier for me.

I was too lost on my own thoughts and over-analysing the map to notice that someone was eventually coming closer and closer to me. I only reacted and clumsily took the knife out of my pocket when I heard a branch snapping behind me, and I turned around in the same spot.

Oh god, how am I going to put up a fight with a walker? Or even worse, with a human being?

Yet, when I turned around there was nothing ready to chop a piece of flesh out of my body. I raised my eyebrow and I looked around, not sure if I was properly holding the knife, but everything was silent again. Everything looked the same, expect... I'm not sure if there was a " **S** " carved in that tree when I first arrived here.

Raising my eyebrows, I approached myself carefully. I only realised I was standing on a cliff when I was passing my fingers through the " **S** " messily and deeply carved on the tree's skin. Bitting my lip, I looked down to the cliff; the way down was all about animals traps, dirt, broken branches and trees all over the place. It was a long way down into the unknown.

My heart was beating too fast in my chest. What did " **S** " stand for? And why would they carve it on a tree while I was around? The once absolutely healthy and beautiful tree had now been damaged and harmed by _someone._

 _Someone_ who was still around.

 _Someone_ who eventually pushed me down the cliff, making me fall into a inevitable death.

~-~-~-~

When I hit the cement with a loud bang, I almost started crying in happiness. At least I was still alive. I had no idea why, though. The way down the cliff was fucking terrible. I hit my head several times and there were bruises all over the fucking place; in my legs, arms, stomach, and probably also in my face. My shirt had several holes on it and I was literally covered in dirt everywhere. My whole body was sore and I was still confused about what happened.

Did I break an arm? A leg? I'm pretty fucking bad ass, I'm still alive. I thought that only happened in movies.

But what about the " **S** " carved in the tree and about the person who pushed me? Was I being chased by someone? What if the Saviors had found me? But they wouldn't try to kill me, would they? My father would kill them first. And since I've never been out of the compound, I didn't have enemies outside.

I didn't have time to ramble about the subject, though. I let it go; I'm good at letting things go. Maybe it was also a kid who was just too scared of facing me and scared I would kill them, so they just pushed me off; or maybe it was a walker who accidentally pushed me. I guess I was lucky enough to fall without hitting my head on a rock and kill myself. I'm always on the bright side, ever since I left the compound. I mean, that was hell on earth, things out here couldn't get any worse, could they? And falling wasn't that bad - at least I took a shortcut.

The first thing I noticed was that I had lost my knife, the second thing was that I was covered in blood, dirt and I was a mess, and the third thing was that a bright orange jeep was parked on the middle of the road.

_I found them._

They didn't hear me falling down the fucking cliff because I had fallen way too far away from them. Even though my vision was shitty, I could see three men armed to the teeth. I hated guns, but I shouldn't be afraid of them. I should be afraid of the men carrying them; they're the ones who pull the trigger, after all.

I breathed in and out, trying to calm myself down. They were Jesus' friends and we were supposed to meet. They wouldn't hurt me. There was this kind of excitement in my chest, though. I was meeting new people! I felt like a first grade student meeting their mates on the first day of class; I felt awkward, but extremely happy at the same time. I was naive, though. My future self, in a few weeks, would tell me to fuck off and get the hell out of there as soon as I could. But I'm not my future self yet, and I'm still naive, and I'm still a scared little girl; so I swallow, _hard_ , and I get on my feet as soon as I can. At least I had the opportunity to see them first, at least they hadn't noticed me yet - _see? I'm always on the bright side._

My knees were bleeding and my arms were scratched all over the place; it looked like a really mad cat had attacked me, but I was fine and that was what mattered. I brought my hands into my pockets; even though I didn't have a weapon anymore, I still had my most sacred object. I've looked to the picture for years hoping it would change; hoping that my mother would face the camera and stare at me smiling, but it never changed. I keet staring, though. I was looking for some encouragement to meet these three new men; I was looking for something I could hold onto on that picture, but I couldn't seem to...

'HEY!'

A deep voice made me jump in my own spot. I guess the guys saw me before I could announce my arriving. I swallowed, hard, as soon as I saw the gun pointing towards me. Okay, calm the fuck down, it’s just a gun and they mean no harm. Adrenaline started running through my veins; not because I was scared, but because this was a whole new situation to me. I felt alive, for the first time in my life. When I left the compound I felt like I was starting again, when I fell off the cliff I realised that starting again and living on this new world isn’t that easy anymore, and now, _right now_ , while I’m here with my hands up in the air, begging this man not to pull the trigger, I realise that _this_ is living. I mean, it is until he pulls the trigger. I hope he doesn’t.

Jesus told me they weren’t dangerous. And I know I should be saying something, something that makes him realise that I’m the girl they’re waiting for, but my tongue is glued to my mouth.

'Get the fuck out of here!' I ended up raising my eyebrows not understanding what the fuck he meant. We were supposed to meet, right? I was about to say Jesus’ name, I was about to scream something on his direction, but he yelled at me again. So he didn’t hear me. 'ANSWER ME!’ My arms were still stupidly raised in the air, like I was ready to show them a fucking white flag. I took a few steps closer, hoping their heads would click and they could recognise me since I had gone fucking mute for now, it seemed; I was staring into the bearded man's eyes, hoping that he would do something.

And I saw something.

I saw a glimpse of recognition and understanding coming from him.

_That is, until I heard a gunshot and I was thrown into the ground._

~-~-

I felt my back hitting the cement – _fucking again_ -, making me scream in agony this time. I was already sore. I suppose I was lucky enough to land on my back before hitting my head on the ground, it would be much worse and I would lose conscience – _fucking bright side again._ I didn't lose conscience, though. I was still wide awake when I heard the three men running towards me, shouting at each other like it was the end of the world.

The bullet's sound was still ringing in my ears, and I thought I was going deaf; nice, I had gone mute and now I was deaf. There’s no bright side on this anymore.

I couldn't see their boots or their heads, not even their faces, but I heard the sounds of them yelling and the head of one of them on my chest, wrists and neck, probably searching for a heartbeat. When the ringing in my ears stopped, I became aware of the surroundings around me and my vision was fine instantly.

I then threw myself on my side and threw up on someone’s boots.

_Oops._

I heard a few cringing sounds, and the men backed out instantly – I chose him well, he was the one who tried to shoot me dead. The world was spinning and it smelled like vomit everywhere.

‘Did ya just wast a fuckin’ bullet on someone ya weren’t supposed to?’

The voices were loud echoing through my ears and I could recognise some strong accents in between. My vision was still shitty; nevertheless, I eventually sat down, avoiding looking at all the vomit, and looked at the people in front of me.

There were three strong, broad-shouldered and scary men looking down at me. They looked dangerous, but not dangerous and strong enough to kill my father. Maybe Jesus hadn’t chosen that well. My father would beat the fuck out of them in a blink of an eye.

'Hey hey, easy on you.' The bearded man stated, kneeling in front of me. He looked scary honestly, and there was something on his eyes - _maybe a bit of insanity_ \- that made me flinch. He raised his eyebrows, but backed away a bit from me. ‘Were you shot? Scratched? Bitten?’

I didn't know. I had no idea how it felt to be shot, scratched, bitten by a walker; I mean, how was I supposed to know? But I looked fine, if you don’t look at the scratches and the dirt on my clothes. And well, the vomit.

'I'm fine, I just fell of a _damn_ cliff.' I replied, my tongue finally letting itself talk. I swallowed hard, feeling my mouth drier than before. 'Jesus told me to meet you guys here. He told me you were friendly. I didn't expect you to shoot me, though.' I wasn't going to straight away introduce myself as Negan's daughter. They knew who I was, they didn't need me to clarify that. I wasn’t proud of being his daughter, not at all. I glanced at the guy who tried to kill me. ‘You’re not the first person who tried to kill me today, but I’m glad I puked on you. You deserved it.’

'Fuckin' prick.' The big haired dude muttered under his breath. His accent was rather funny, but he didn't sound like a funny person, not at all. 'Always fuckin’ everythin’ up. Ya wanna tell people in China where you are? ‘Cuz I’m pretty fuckin’ sure they heard that bullet.’

He was right though. Walkers must have heard the shot, but his yelling wasn’t helping much with the situation. 

'Can you stand up?' The bearded man questioned me. He was a weird person. It looked like he wanted to be nice to people, with his calm voice and his slow movements, but at the same time he had this coldness, this distance in his voice... He had probably gone through a lot. Jesus said they went through hell, so I'm afraid they might be a little unbalanced as human beings. But they were _human beings_ and even though one of them tried to kill me, I guess it wasn’t on purpose and he didn’t know who I was. I tried to stand up, which I successfully did. Well, it would be awkward if I didn't. My head was still spinning but I managed to keep my balance the best I could.

'We should get going. It’s gonna be dark soon and we need to figure things out between us.’ The guy with the beard said, and he was right; we really needed to talk about our plans; about killing my _father._

That was when I remembered. When I raised my arms to show the imaginary white flag to the prick who almost shoot me, I had my mother's picture on my hand. However, it wasn’t there anymore.

_I couldn't lose it._

'Oh fuck.' I gasped, looking around like a mad person, Fuck, fuck, fuck. I can't lose it, it's the only thing I have left of her; of us. It’s my only memory from the normal world. I searched in my pockets frantically, even though it would be impossible for it to be there. I then kneeled on the ground. It had to be there, it was right there before I fell.

'What's going on?' The bearded man asked, kneeling next to me. He was nice. He seemed nice. And he wasn’t freaking the fuck out with me yet and dragging me by my hair to the jeep.

'My picture, my mother's picture, I... - I was stumbling on my own words. - It was in my hand, but I-'

Before I could finish panicking and before I could finish my sentence, I felt something resting on my skull.

_Fuck._

I looked at the bearded man, my eyes wide open like a stupid fish, and I saw him as much surprised as I was. The gun felt cold in my skull, and I felt terrified for the first time in my life.

There you go, meet the third person who tried to kill me today.

I had never been so confused in my entire life. I thought they needed me to defeat my father’s dictatorship.

'Care to fuckin' explain?' The big haired guy growled, his gun pressuring farther into my skull and making me groan in pain. I was still sore from the two falls. Was he going to pull the trigger? And what was I supposed to explain? That was when he showed me what he was holding on his right hand: my mother's picture! But my heart ached when I looked at it. You could still see my mother's beautiful face, her beautiful yes and her beautiful smile, but you couldn't see me; my tiny frame as a baby being held wasn’t in the picture anymore; that piece of the picture had been ripped apart by a bullet wound.

'Oh my god!' I cried out in pain, trying to reach for the picture, but he didn't let me. 'Give me my picture, you monster!' I growled. I couldn't believe that my biggest treasure had been harmed. I didn't deserve being in such mess. I just left the compound and I had fallen two times, people tried to kill me three times and now this.

'Not until ya fuckin' explain me why _Carol_ is in this fuckin' picture and why ya have it!' He growled back, and the bearded man raised his eyebrows.

'What? What are you talking about, Daryl?' He questioned, taking a look at the picture. Who were they talking about? Carol? _Who the fuck was Carol?_ That was my mother in the picture, not some random woman named Carol.

Rick growled.

'Is this a fucking plan to ruin our fucking lives? Is Jesus fucking with us? Why do you have a picture of Carol with you!?'

Nice. Now they were both mad at me. And now I had two weapons pointed to my head. My life was definitely a roller coaster. Three hours ago I was literally sleeping with the angels in my beautiful and peaceful room; now I was kneeling on a fucking road sore as fuck with three strangers and two weapons ready to blow my brains. _How lovely._

'I don't fucking know what you're talking about!' I yelled back, trying to get the bigger guy to stop hurting my arms with his huge hands. 'My father gave me that picture when I was 10. He said it was my mother.’

I could hear Daryl growling behind me.

'Rick, do somethin'. Otherwise Imma fuckin' lose it.'

Rick pressed the bridge of his nose with both his fingers, and exhaled hard. He seemed to be even so tired, so done with everything and so fucking mad at the world and at things. Was this man mentally able to take down Negan? I don’t think so.

He then kneeled next to me. And I was scared.

'What was your mother's name?' His voice was a little gentler, but I was still scared. And I didn’t feel like trusting these people.

'I don't know.' I replied, in the verge of tears. 'My father never told me her name. That's the only memory I have from her. Just give it back to me, please. You've already done enough damage.'

'I can't take you with me if you're a danger to my people.' Rick stated, and I felt scared. I felt scared because he looked like he actually cared about his people. And when a leader cares about his people, he'll go through everything to protect them; he’ll do everything to keep them safe, fed and happy. _Being a leader was my father’s death._ 'You're Negan's daughter, you come to us and you have a picture of our friend with you. How do you think we're going to react to that?'

'Please, I've already told you. I have no idea who Carol is and I've never met my mother. If you don't want to take me, just let me go. And give me my picture.'

Rick sighed, and he stood up. Daryl hadn't lost his grip on me, and my skull was already hurt enough.

'What do I do, Daryl?'

Daryl shrugged his shoulders. Rick sounded tired, and Daryl sounded like he didn't care.

'Ya want me to shoot her? We could give her head to her papa wrapped in wire. Maybe he would use it as a bat as well.'

Maybe father was right, after all. Maybe there are no more innocent, caring people outside. Maybe he's doing the best for the world. These are the first people I've met and they look and act like monsters. Dad does act like a monster, but he's nice, caring and gentle to me.

Maybe father was right. Maybe I should be like him.

'Are you serious right now?' I spat out, finally growing some balls. I really don't know where that came from, but I felt like I needed to say something in order to save my ass. 'You're mad 'cuz my dad's a killer, but you're planning on fucking kill me?' I shook my head in disbelief. ' _Fucking hypocrites._ '

Daryl's grip hardened, but I didn't give a shit. He could go to hell for all I cared. People out here are different, and tough, and dangerous, and lethal; so I might try to act as tough, as dangerous and as lethal as them.

_Again, I'm a really good actress._

'You're in no position to act smart.' Rick stated dryly. Autch. He's right, though, so I didn't say anything much. I simply shrugged my shoulders and waited for it. There was nothing beautiful on a world like this anymore, so fuck it.

'You gotta make a decision right fucking now.' The guy who (almost) shot me stated, and that's when I heard it again. The moans, the groans, the fucking smell. _They were coming._

'Daryl...' Rick was literally begging for his friend's help.

'I don't fuckin' now! It's yer call man. It's always yer call.'

Rick looked around; they were closer now.

Fuck, they would leave me out there alone, and those monsters were already smelling us from the distance.

I swallowed hard and I tried to find a way to escape these man and the beasts. There was no way.

Rick glanced at me one last time, and probably at my shitty state right now. Something crossed his eyes, though. I saw the glimpse. He muttered something in the lines of _'fuck it'_  under his breath, and a second after, I was being dragged by the arm to the bright orange jeep.

_How nice it is to make friends in the middle of the zombie apocalypse._


	4. 3. family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mathilda gets to know Rick a little more, and realises that there are actually good people out there; you just need to find them and break their walls - and not mess around with their family.  
> That's where shit hits the fan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i thought i wasn't going to publish this chapter on time oh my gosh but i finally finished it. i'm really tired so there must be some mistakes. i'll correct them as soon as i update on saturday.  
> i had a school trip today - i woke up at 6am and it's literally 10 pm and i just arrived, so i didn't have much time to work on this chapter. i have another school trip tomorrow and i have really important exams in two weeks so yeah, i'm sorry if i fuck an update up!!  
> anyways, i know there hasn't been any interaction with daryl (let's wait for the next chapter, shall we?) but this is how the story works. the plot isn't all about romance, there's much more to it. i hope you can understand that. but don't worry, we get to see daryl on action on the next chapter. (i'm basically begging you not to give up on this story lmao but i just hate when daryl gets all softy on the first chapters. wake up people, that's not how daryl acts!!) thank you guys so much for your feedback and i'll see y'all next saturday!!

_family - a basic social unit consisting of parents and their children, considered as a group, whether dwelling together or not._

 

After what happened back at the road, I expected to be locked up in a dungeon and starved to death - yet, that didn't happen. The car ride back home was awkward, uncomfortable and I was scared to death, but as soon as we arrived Alexandria - that was the community's name according to what was written on the walls around there -, I found the place comfortable.  
I mean, _really_ comfortable.  
It seemed safe as well. They had traps to kill walkers, huge walls and guards on every corner. It looked like a military base from the outside, but when the gates opened and we entered the community, running away from all the walkers who were starting to corner our car, I was surprised.  
I was surprised to see kids running and playing around, women and men helping each other with domestic tasks and _houses,_  
_man_ \- they had clean, perfect and beautiful houses like we had before all of this happened. Everything looked so perfect!  
People noticed I was new in the community, but I don't think they knew I was _his_ daughter. I was welcomed by smiles and  
curious glances; yet, I didn't have much time to check and look around, since Rick dragged me to a house at the end of a street.  
It was new, nicely decorated and there were pictures all over the place; it looked inhabited. But again, I didn't have time to check because I was then locked up in a room.  
I had been there for the past two hours hearing people chatting and laughing outside. Even though they weren't the nicest  
people, I felt safe. It wasn't heaven on earth of course, but at least I wasn't locked up in some dungeon with rats. People looked comfortable, cosy in here; I guess that's why Rick was so scared of taking me with them. His community looked untouchable, heavenly; he was just afraid I would screw up everything he fought so hard to accomplish. I would never do that to  someone, let alone someone who never harmed me in any way. Back at the compound everyone was ready to slit each other's throats; it was nice to meet a community where things are different.

  
While we were on our way here, Rick didn't say much to me. He exchanged some glances with Daryl, muttered something under his breath and then locked me up in this room. When Jesus told me they were nice people I actually believed him. It's not that I don't believe it now; it's just difficult to trust someone as tough as Rick, someone as scary and well-built as Daryl and someone as stupid as the guy who almost shot me.

  
I tried to make myself at home, anyway. Jesus would be arriving soon with news about my father and I would tell him everything that happened. Maybe we could find a way to sneak me out to Hilltop and I would be able to stay with him. That would be fucking great, even though I doubted it would happen.

  
I wasn't allowed to take a shower. I mean, at least nobody said I could use the bathroom and since I didn't want to cross the line with these people, I didn't. I had taken a shower in the morning, but the way down to the cliff until I hit the road was a little disgusting and messy, so I decided to exchange into some new clothes. I put my bag in the old, empty wardrobe and to make my fear go away, I also put my mother's picture on the nightstand.

  
Who was _Carol_? I had so many questions to ask these people but I wasn't sure if I wanted to know the answer. And again, would it matter? _Carol_ didn't matter. She wasn't my mother, they were just confused; everybody looks like everybody in a world like this. The first time I saw a walker, I panicked and I thought he was my father. He wasn't, obviously. So they were probably hallucinating. My mother was gone and that was it. I was still sad about the picture being destroyed, though; it was my only memory.

There was a knock on the door; I didn't jump nor flinch, I just waited for someone to barge in and grab me by the hair and try to kill me again. It didn't happen, though. There was another knock on the door, and I decided to answer.

'You can come in.' I claimed, to whoever that was knocking.

The door swung open and suddenly a boy was standing in my room. He was dressed casually on some clean jeans and a dark  
shirt. The kid was probably the same age as I, or maybe a year younger; I didn't know. He was carrying a gun on his hand, he had a funny looking sheriff's hat covering his big hair and he looked like a pirate due to the eye patch covering his right eye. I bit my lip; things must be hard out here, for a kid to lose his eye.

'You're the new girl, right? The bad guy's daughter?' I rolled my eyes. 'My father told me you were here.' Even though he looked young, his voice was strong and he was all confidence - he sounded like a leader and he surely didn't seem afraid. His eyes, his posture and his behavior told me only one thing: his father was certainly Rick. Only Rick was like that as well.

I raised my eyebrows, staring at him uncomfortably. What was I supposed to say?

'Yeah, I suppose.' I muttered; I wouldn't lie, I was happy to see someone my age, even though he was holding a gun and he  
could shoot me whenever he wanted. 'Who's your father?'

'Rick.' He replied, and I nodded; yeah, you could see that by their eyes: they were the same beautiful shade of blue. 'My father is handling something out there and Daryl's the one in charge right now. He didn't want to come here, so he sent me.' I was glad Daryl didn't come though. He would scare the shit out of me. 'There's someone who wants to meet you.'

Two minutes later, my head was buried on Jesus' chest and he was petting my hair.

  
'Daryl was just telling me that you were almost shot. Jesus Christ, I'm so sorry.' He whispered to my hair, hugging me tight. 'But this was for the best. Things are going to get messy at Negan's and you need to be protected.'

It wasn't like I cared about my father, but he was my father; _he's my own blood._

'Did you get to see him?' I whispered, not really wanting other people to hear me. I left him behind, I made my choice; there was no running back, even though I was starting to think that these people were no better than him nor the Saviors. 'How was he?'

'The same old psychopath. He smashed a few of our resources and threatened to burn the whole place down to ashes, but we  
should be fine. He doesn't know you're gone yet.'

I nodded, swallowing hard.  
_You made your choice_ _, Mathilda._  
_Deal with it._

  
But there was something; there was something in my stomach. It wasn't a knot, it was worse than that. I was scared, I was so  
fucking scared. I left the compound a few hours ago and I already faced death so many times. And these people... they're evil.  
They're crazy. At least dad respected me, even though he didn't respect the others.

'Mathilda, look at me.' Jesus must have felt my bad energies. He was the only one I could still trust. Not my father, not Rick, not Daryl, not Rick's kid; it was him, it has always been him. I looked up at my _brother_ and he embraced my face with both his  
hands. While closing my eyes and feeling his warmness spreading around my body, I sighed. 'I know that you feel unprotected and that you've already been through a lot, but you couldn't stay inside those walls for the rest of your life, could you?' He was right. I nodded, and he smiled. 'These people are strong, maybe even stronger than your father. You're going to need their help, but you're going to have to help them as well. That's the only way you'll keep yourself strong.'

'How's that?' I raised my eyebrows. They would kill my father, and then what? They wouldn't need me anymore. I would be  
alone, all by myself. Jesus looked around, but no one was listening.

'Listen, Mathilda, I'll be gone someday.'

'Stop.'

'No, let me finish!' He protested, holding my hands. 'Your dad will be gone someday - hopefully soon. But I'll be gone someday as well. Maybe tomorrow, maybe in a few hours, I have no idea; no one does, really, not in a world like this. You'll see the worst of this world sooner than you expect, and I need to be sure that you're protected.'

'Paul, I am not going to make it.' I muttered; I wasn't even sad, I was just stating the truth. How would I make it in a world like  
this? 'I don't know how to use a gun, I can't fight, I can't even-'

'That's exactly what you need to change, Mathilda!' He grabbed me harder. ' _This is war._ You're not living under your father's  
wing anymore. Everybody helps around here, even the younger kids. They fight Mathilda, and you need something to fight for.  
Something beautiful. And this is something, right? _This is something, this is beautiful._ ' And it was, really. Most of these people probably wouldn't be friends if they hadn't been put in a situation like this one. 'You need to gain their trust and they'll teach you everything. You'll learn how to protect yourself, and I'll finally be able to sleep at night without worrying about your safety. _This is how you live.'_

'I'm their enemy's daughter, Paul!' I tried to knock some sense into him. I mean, why would they accept me as their family? 'Do  
you really think they would share their secrets with me? You really think so? I might turn against them someday and use all the secrets they shared and all the fighting techniques to destroy them. They know that, they're not oblivious.'

'Would you do that?'

'No, I'd never do anything to put these people in danger.' Even though they were scary and mean, why would I do that? I wasn't  
my father. I would never hurt them to protect that psychopath. They were right, father wasn't; even though their cruelty seemed pretty familiar sometimes...  
Jesus sighed.

'Rick and Daryl are great men, Mathilda. They're rather scary, yeah, but they're just trying to make it out alive with their family.  
And believe me, they would die for them. Make sure you get the chance to enter the family as well. It's your best shot on  
surviving.'

'How do I do that, Jesus?'

'Being who you are.'

_Oh well, that's a great advice._

'I'm Negan's daughter.'

He smirked.

'No. You're Negan's only weakness. _And believe me, that's the key to survival in a world like this.'_

~-~-~

'I really don't want you to go.'

The long haired man chuckled and rolled his eyes.

'And I really don't want you to die. I've already told you that I have to go. Negan has probably arrived home by this time, and he'll go mad when he finds out you left. He might even do something to Hilltop, so we need to be prepared.'

I hugged my own body with my thin arms.

'I don't want you to die either.'

'You silly thing, I'm not going to die.' Jesus rolled his eyes, but I feared. I feared that he would be gone, I feared that my father  
would seek for revenge and kill him, I feared that everything would go to shit. 'Negan is smart, but we were smarter right? We  
became friends right under his nose without him even noticing us. I should be fine. I'll come back as soon as I can.'

We were already out of the main building, right where Jesus had parked his car near the exit gates. There were people around,  
but they didn't seem to notice us. He opened the car's door, and I sighed when I heard walkers outside. There are so many  
threats outside; there's so much to think about. Sometimes I completely forget this is the zombie apocalypse since I have to put up with so much shit which is not at all related to the apocalypse itself. Sometimes I wish it was all about zombies and that I wouldn't have to be afraid of people.

'Be safe, okay? Just be safe.' That was my only wish.

'I will. See you really soon, okay? Stay safe, and try to make some friends!'

 _He said he would see me really soon._  
_He never mentioned when, though._

~-~-~

'Mathilda?'

I swallowed, hard, and I stopped dead on my tracks.  
I turned around, facing him and trying to smile.

'Hey Rick.' I remembered what Jesus told me about; I needed to be nice, I needed to gain their trust if I wanted to survive. When I glanced at his clothes, which were soaked in blood and at his tired eyes, I raised my eyebrows. He wasn't like that before. 'Is everything okay?'

Rick nodded.

'Just a few problems with some walkers out there, nothing we can't handle.' It was my time to nod, and I noticed we were  
walking right next to each other, our shoulders touching. I guess that's a way to start a casual conversation. He wasn't that mad at me anymore, so I suppose he went out there and killed some walkers in order not to feel so mad at me anymore, and to put his bad energies into them and not into me. 'Where are you going?'

'Hmmm, I was just heading to my room.' I replied, not really sure if I was saying the right thing. 'I just finished talking to Jesus. He just left.'

Rick nodded in understanding.

'Jesus is a great man; Carl told me he was inside talking to you. You've met Carl, I suppose. He's my son.'

'Yeah, I did meet him.' I responded, staring at everything but Rick. It was still a little bit awkward, but his attitude towards me  
changed a little, which made me feel less anxious and made it easier to follow Jesus' plan. 'He seems like a smart kid. You taught him well.'

'Oh, I didn't teach him anything.' Rick shook his head. 'I actually screwed up a bit with him - and when I say a bit, I mean a _whole fucking lot._ ' There was a glimpse of sadness invading Rick's eyes, but he brushed it off really quickly. These people scared me. 'He toughened up by himself. He's a strong kid, Carl. We've been through a lot.'

I wasn't being nice or listening to Rick because Jesus was telling me; I realised I was listening to Rick because he was nice,  
because he was caring and _because he wasn't my father._ I was listening to him because I wanted to, not because I had to. And  
even though it all started bad, I was out here. I wasn't trapped in a building with six other women; I was feeling the breeze on my hair, the sunlight was touching my face and I was finally free and the owner of my own decisions; I wasn't living in a moving nightmare anymore. I was free, living with new people and dealing with new things.

'I can't imagine what you've been through, Rick. I really can't.' I decided to be honest; Rick seemed like a very observant and  
smart man, he would know if I was lying. And honestly, I felt like I could trust him, mostly because he realised he needed to treat me well in order for me to trust him. He didn't try to kill me - yet -, or labeled me as the murderer's daughter. He wanted to get to know me. 'It must be hard especially for you. You have the world in your shoulders.'

Rick chuckled; it wasn't a warm and a pleasant chuckle, though. It was a sad, ironic chuckle.

'I'm no different of your father Mathilda, and we both know that. We're both just trying to survive and keep our loved ones alive.'

I shook my head. I felt so confused about my father, about how I felt about him and about his behaviour. I knew he was a bad  
man, but he was my father no matter what.

'He has killed innocent people, Rick. Just because it was funny.' I replied, shaking my head. Even though I wasn't sure, I knew  
Rick wasn't like my father.

'Jesus has told me all about him. My group and I, we've defeated someone as bad as he is. It wasn't easy and we lost a lot of  
people, but he's gone now. And we're still here.' He looked at me. 'I know how you feel, you know? I know you're different; I  
know you want to help these people and I know you want Jesus safe, but deep down you're not sure if you can trust us. And you don't want to kill your own blood either. _After all, he's your only family._ '

There was nothing much to add. Rick was right; damn, he had never been so right before. I simply nodded, trying to hold back the tears.

'Yeah, something like that...' I muttered. 'I know he's mean, but he wasn't like this before and... and it's just so confusing. He's  
my blood, and I love him, and I think he loves me too but... just because he loves me, it doesn't make it right, does it? It doesn't make it right for him to kill all these people just because he feels like it.'

Rick shook his head no.

'It certainly doesn't. It's not fair for you to handle this but honestly - and I'm telling you this from experience -, it only gets  
worse.'

I raised my eyebrows.

'What are you talking about?'

'It only gets worse; your dad will go mad when he finds out you left. And now that you're on our side, you'll see the worst of him. That's the real him. The real him isn't the mask he wears every time he's with you. What really defines us in the end of the world is the way we fight; the way our eyes light up every time our best friend gets killed, the way we slaughter someone innocent or the way we decide to let someone go. It's a mad world out here, Mathilda; our life out here is like a chess game, and we're only the pawns. If he finds out, if he kills a dozen of us and if he escapes, don't you bother thinking he won't come back; because he will, and he will burn this entire thing down to ashes. And he may not even recognise you, and let you burn with the whole place.'

I didn't know what to say. Rick was definitely a educated and a lived man, I was in no position to argue with that. I simply  
nodded.

'You're right Rick. I'll take that in account.' I really would. I didn't have much more to say though.

'There's one last thing I want to talk to you about, so we can get on good terms.' I looked at him, my eyebrows raised, and he  
tried to crack a smile. 'This is no therapy group, and believe me, I've grown not to care about anyone, but I need you, and you  
need me. And we need to get to know each other if we want this to work and to make both communities survive.' I nodded my  
head. 'This is the way Jesus lives, Mathilda: _we work together._ I'm going to tell you something personal and you'll do the same  
with me. This is the way we bound, this is the way we start trusting each other. Is that okay?'

There wasn't nothing secret in my life, so I nodded my head yes.

'Okay, I'll start then.' I waited. I was eager to hear everything about Rick, honestly. He seemed to have gone through so much  
with his family. 'You've already met my son Carl... But I have another kid; a daughter, actually. She's 2.' I almost let an "aww"  
leave my mouth, but I didn't let it slip. I simply smiled at the thought of a baby in Alexandria. I didn't love babies, but babies are so precious nowadays. Precious and dangerous, but mostly precious. Rick was smiling as well, and he looked like a different man. 'Her name's Judith, and... and there's a lot of story into it. She's not my really daughter, not really my blood... I was married to Lori, my ex-wife, when it happened. She had an affair with my best friend and she got pregnant... And then Judith was born.' _Well, that escalated fucking quickly._ Rick was taking care of the living proof of an affair; he would look at Judith and he would remember his wife and his best friend together, literally fucking behind his back. But he seemed pretty much chilled about it; like it was in the past. 'It's a pretty long story though; it's all behind my back now. My life is new, I'm happy now... Things changed, you know? My wife died while giving labor to Judith. Carl shot her in the head. He was 13 back at the time.' I swallowed the lump in my throat in order not to cry. Carl had to take down his own mother by himself. _His own fucking mother._ I felt numb all of a sudden. These people had really gone through a lot, but they didn't seem too affected by it. They were changed, yes, but not completely ruthless nor heartless. 'And my best friend, _my fucking best friend,_ tried to steal my own family from me; he then tried to kill me. I stabbed him. He came back to life and Carl shot him in the head, again. He was 12.' And with those words, I felt instant sympathy for these people. Even for Daryl and for the guy who shot me; they all went through a lot. I keep complaining but I was safe back at the compound. And these people have been out there for so long, struggling, fighting, suffering... It isn't fair. I look like a spoiler brat.

'Rick, I don't even know what to say in a situation like this.' I tried to be honest and to say something nice, but I was speechless. 'I'm so sorry you and Carl had to go through that. And you're really brave, you know? For raising Judith like she's your own daughter. That makes me really think about the kind of people you are.'

Rick smiled.

'She's my sunshine. When I look at her, I don't see him, I don't even see Lori; I see a beautiful kid who didn't ask to be born and needs to be loved dearly; she deserves that, I owe her that. You know what matters in the end?' I shook my head. 'What you really are as a person. Judith is the cutest kid on the entire earth. She's always smiling; she's always happy, she's always hugging her brother... She's not vicious as her father nor a liar as her mother. She has nothing to do with both of them even though she has their blood.' And then it clicked in my head. 'You know what I'm saying, Mathilda? It doesn't matter where you come from, not anymore, not in a world like this. I don't care if you're his daughter; as long as you make good choices, as long as you respect us and as long as you are respectful to this family, you're one of us. I hope you picked the right side when you chose us.'

I swallowed.

'I know I did, Rick. Thank you. For everything, really. I'll make myself useful and a part of the family. I promise you.'

Rick nodded, and my heart warmed.

'I'm glad we're on the same boat. But don't expect everyone to trust you right away, especially Daryl; he's kinda hard to deal  
with.' _Yes he fucking was._ 'He was really mad when he saw Carol's picture. I don't expect you to tell me everything about the  
picture today, but I surely want you to tell me when you're ready. I told you my secret, and I hope you find the right time to tell me yours.'

There was no secret. I didn't know who the fuck Carol was, but I simply nodded and smiled at Rick. I didn't smile  
because I wanted to be a part of the family; I smiled because he inspired me - he was a great man.

'You could have dinner at our place tonight; this is the way we welcome new people here.' I was really surprised at his request,  
but my eyes immediately lit up in happiness. 'It's not too crowded, though. Carl's there and you'll get to meet Judith and  
Michonne. I bet Michonne wants to talk to you about some business stuff, and Carl surely needs some company.'

I smiled widely.  
Well, I wasn't expecting that.

'That seems great, Rick. Thank you very much. Really.'

Rick tried to crack a smile.

'I'm not always this nice, Mathilda. I just want you to know that, okay? I always put my family first on everything. And if things  
go to hell, you need to be able to pick up which side are you in. I hope you can do that when the time comes.'

Rick surely hoped a lot of things. And so did I.

'Same here, Rick.' I sighed. 'Same here.'

'Let's get some dinner, then.'

And they walked together, side by side; and while the bad guy's daughter and the town's leader walked together towards home in order to get some dinner, _they surely did not notice a hole in the strong, untouchable walls of Alexandria._


	5. 4. insane

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The world is ugly outside,  
> and Mathilda is about to witness how bad can things get.

_insane - not sane; not of sound mind; mentally deranged._

 

'These books are huge, how am I suppose to learn everything?'

I bit my lip; these books must be seven thousand pages long or maybe even more. Denise chuckled while checking on the medicine Alexandria still had left. She was writing down an inventory or something for Rick.

'I had to read those a thousand times, but I'm obviously not going to ask you that.' I sat down on the ground while she wrote the name's of the available medicine. 'I'm just trying to teach you something in case you get hurt or if I need help. Or even if something happens to me; Alexandria needs more doctors.'

I didn't think that would be happening, though. I wasn't properly scared or disgusted by blood nor by needles or anything, but my dream was surely not to be a doctor - especially in the middle of the zombie apocalypse.

'You're going to be just fine, Denise; there's no need to have more doctors in Alexandria.' I replied, smiling fondly at her; after dinner at Rick's - which was even better than I expected -, I found out that I was living in Denise's house along with Tara, her girlfriend. They were both really friendly and nice, they let me take a shower and they asked me to talk more about myself. I lied the whole conversation - Rick told me to, so that was what I did. I told them I had lost my parents on a car accident two years before the outbreak and that I ended up living with my grandfather. He didn't make it through the apocalypse, and I was out there by myself until Daryl found me. They believed me and they didn't ask me many questions, which was really good. I wasn't prepared for that. 'Also, I have some doubts on the stitching thing. How do I take them off?'

It's been four days since I left my father's compound. I've been talking to Jesus and hanging out with him for a few minutes. He told me that my father has no idea I left because he hasn't been home for a few days. He couldn't give me much details, but there was a problem on the West compound and he had to go there. I remember staying alone for one or two weeks back at the compound, eventually accepting his death; but he would always come back home, covered in blood and hurt, but fine. I was thankful that he hadn't noticed my disappearance yet. I wanted to get used to Alexandria first.

I heard someone coming in; it was Spencer. He had hurt his arm a weeks ago and Denise stitched him up; now it was my time to take the stitches off. Denise showed me how to do it and taught me, I just needed to practice.

'Hey ladies,' Spencer greeted us, nodding his head at both of us. He was one of the people who protected the walls, so he was like a hero to all of us. He sat down on a chair next to me. 'I need to get this damn stitches off, I can't shoot properly anymore.'

Denise chuckled and started preparing her medical equipment.

'You've always been terrible at shooting Spencer, this isn't about the stitches.' They both chuckled and Spencer rolled his eyes. 'Anyways, sit down; little doctor over here is going to take your stitches off.' Denise said, while pointing at me. I cringed at the mention of my name; _"little doctor"_ my ass, I was terrible at this.

Suddenly, it looked like Spencer had remembered something. He face palmed himself.

'Oh damn, I completely forgot!' He muttered under his breath and then looked at me. 'Rick wants to talk to you as soon as possible. He just told me to tell you it's important.'

Important? Maybe Jesus was here to visit. I nodded, and I glanced at Denise in order to be excused.

'I'll see you later then. Maybe you can take Margaret's stitches off tomorrow, what do you think? Just so you can tell me what you can't understand.' I nodded again, wanting to get the fuck out of there. As soon as I could, I was out. It wasn't like I didn't like Denise; she was amazing and so was Tara, but I did not want to be a doctor. When Rick gave me the idea of helping her, I didn't think she would be teaching me how to do her job and I surely didn't think I would have to read those damn huge books. It was a waste of time, I could be dead by tomorrow. It was just books. But I needed to stay there, do something and be something to this community, so I was only going with the flow.

I saw Rick and Daryl leaning against an old, dusty, black car they used to go out on runs with. When Daryl saw me, he muttered something to Rick and left, entering one of the guard's towers near Alexandria's gates. Or maybe I was just being stupid; this wasn't all about me. He probably didn't even care enough to avoid me, he was just a man with a busy life. Rick smiled when I leaned against the car next to him.

'How are you handling things with Denise?'

I shrugged my shoulders.

'Well, I'm going really well... I'm her best student, after all...' Rick chuckled; I was Denise's only student, so it wouldn't be hard to be the best on class. 'But seriously, there's a lot to it, a lot more than I thought. It's great, but I'm still learning a lot of things.'

Rick nodded and looked around; he had finally shaved his beard and he looked like another man. He looked way cleaner, way friendlier and definitely way younger - and happier.

'She's been telling me that you're going well, you just need a little bit more of practice. And you definitely need to read those huge books.' I laughed out loud; just the thought of reading the books... ugh. But at least I didn't have homework like Carl did. 'Anyway, I called you here because I wanted to tell you something.' My posture changed -I crossed my arms on my chest and looked at Rick attentively, since his facial expression changed as well and he became more serious. 'We're going to Hilltop today; just for a few business matters, but we'll may not be back until tomorrow since it's getting dark. I'm going with Daryl so Michonne and T-dog are the ones on lead. If you need something, you go talk to them. I just wanted to warn you, that's all.'

Rick was going to Hilltop! I hadn't seen Jesus in two days, so I really did want to see him. I missed him so much, and even though Rick, Michonne and all the others were great, I wanted my brother with me.

'You have to take me with you!' I immediately begged, even though I knew Rick wouldn't let me go. 'I haven't seen Jesus in ages and he would be really happy to see me.'

Rick raised his eyebrows and sighed.

'That's definitely not a good idea. You can be seen or recognised by someone at Hilltop and we don't want problems with your father, not until we are able to handle him. Stay here with Denise, learn something, do something useful... I'll talk to Jesus and I'll tell him you miss him. Is that alright to you?'

_No, it's not!_

That was what I wanted to scream, but I didn't. I silently growled, not really happy with the fact that I had to put up with this bullshit, and I shrugged my shoulders.

'I just miss him a lot, and I really wanted to go out these walls. I've spent so many time locked up in a building...' Now I was playing the pity card. Rick rolled his eyes and chuckled.

'Stop looking at me with those puppy eyes. You know I can't take you there, it's too risky. You stay here, you study and you help Denise. That's our deal.'

I knew I had a deal with them, but I didn't want to feel like they were trapping me, which was exactly what they were doing. I bit my lip, but I nodded.

'Okay, it's fine. Just tell Jesus I miss him a lot and see if he can visit.'

Carl's father nodded in agreement.

'That's okay. Now get back to your anatomy books. We'll talk later.'

Rick eventually left and entered the same building as Daryl; they were probably packing things up for the visit to Hilltop. I sighed in defeat; there was no way I would be able to convince Daryl to let me go with them; he barely looked at me anyway.

Sighing, I decided I didn't want to go back to the anatomy books; it was too much to study anyway and I wasn't in the mood. So instead of burying my head in those books, I decided to take a walk around Alexandria. Everything was so beautiful.

I still couldn't call this place home, but I knew I would someday. There were birds flying around, kids playing, women chatting with each other, men laughing together... It was too good to be true. I loved that place.

As I walked on the grass, I noticed that the kids had been planting trees again. I smiled at the sight of the new trees which had been planted yesterday, and I approached myself to get a better view.

That is, until I saw that one of the oldest trees was damaged.

 **S.**  

A **S** carved in the tree.

The last time I saw a **S** carved in a tree, I ended up falling off a cliff with bruises all over myself. I took a few steps back, looking around unsure. What the fuck was going on? I recalled the accident by the cliff, and the bruises still hurt so much; whoever pushed me down that cliff, they did it with a purpose. And they surely weren't happy with the fact that I was staying in Alexandria.

I swallowed.

Someone at Alexandria wanted me dead.

I should have gone and talked to Rick, or maybe with Daryl, or maybe with someone who could help me; hell, I could have begged for Michonne's help.

_I didn't._

I was in danger, and there was only one person on the entire earth who could protect me: Jesus.

It was stupid and it was reckless, but nobody was seeing me. Nobody could stop me.

They wouldn't take me to Hilltop, so I would have to get there by myself.

 _With a little help of Daryl's car, of course_.

~-~-~-

 

'What the fuck are ya doin' here?'

I took three steps back; _nice one Mathilda, you just got busted._ I swallowed, _hard_ , and took a few more steps back. Daryl has always scared me, but now I was terrified of him - especially because I wasn't supposed to be here, but I was. I had been looking for Jesus for the past 30 minutes. He was nowhere to be seen, and I was just running around Hilltop like a mad person. People would raise their eyebrows at me, but they didn't ask questions. I tried to avoid Rick and Daryl as much as I could - especially Daryl -, but it came to a point where I was completely lost and I had to stop by the barn. And Daryl eventually found me; a really exhausted and confused Daryl found me. I was terrified of him, honestly. Everything about him screamed danger and death. And I've already had enough of that in my life.

'I-I just wanted to see Paul, but, hm...' I tried my best to avoid his gaze; everything about Daryl was awkward. His eyebrows arched and I bit my lip. 'B-but I can't find him.'

Daryl looked at me for a few seconds.

_He then snapped._

'Were ya in the fuckin' trunk? I knew ya were there, Rick told me I was imagining things.' He scoffed. 'Imagining things my ass...'

I almost let a smirk draw itself in my lips. I suffered a bit locked up on the damn trunk, but I made it through and they barely noticed it.

'I'm sorry about that, I'll apologise to Rick later. Can you just tell me where I can find Paul, and...'

'What the fuck?!'

_Wait, what?_

'What is happeni- _HEY, LEAVE ME ALONE!'_ I was literally being dragged by the elbow - I'm not even joking nor exaggerating right now. Daryl's tight grip would probably bruise my arm later, and I tripped a few times while he was taking me with him to the barn. What the fuck was going on?! Was he going nuts?

'Shut yer fuckin' mouth.' He muttered on my ear, and soon enough we were inside the barn. What the hell was going on? There was a dusty window which gave us a not so perfect view of what was happening on the yard, and Daryl looked outside. I noticed his body tensing and his biceps hardening. 'Do ya recognise those cars?'

I looked through the window. For a few seconds, I remembered those times back at the compound when I had to sit inside a building and watch everything happen from the inside.

But now, oh fuck.

_I did recognise the cars._

'The Saviors...' I muttered, immediately hugging myself in fear. _,_ We were fucked. I definitely shouldn't have come here today. Right when I decided to escape to avoid being killed at Alexandria, I would end up being killed at Hilltop. Fucking nice. 'What do you think they want here?'

'Those fuckers ain't the main problem...' Daryl muttered back, and he tried to clean the window with his vest. It didn't do anything to improve our vision from the inside though. He furrowed his eyebrows and muttered something under his breath again. 'Is that Negan?'

A baseball bat on his hand.

A fearless look on his face.

Broad-shouldered.

Looking for revenge.

Yeah.

That was definitely my father.

_Oh fuck._

~-~-~

Negan didn't need to ask them to open the gates for him. They were already opened when three cars entered Hilltop. Daryl was holding tight onto his crossbow, and I was holding tight onto myself. I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs that we were going to die, but I got a grip of myself.

Dozens of Saviors armed to the teeth left the two biggest jeeps I've seen in my entire life and started looking around, their weapons pointed at everyone and everything. Those men sent shivers down my spine, and by the way they were searching the place, I knew right there and then we would be fucked right in the ass. My dad was looking around smirking.

'They're lookin' for ya.' Daryl whispered, and I leaned against him. I never expected to do that, though. Me, looking for perfection from Daryl? That's new. He dragged me by the elbow again as quick as he could. 'We need to get the fuck out of here.'

'What? No!' I whispered back, trying to get out of his grip. 'We can't leave Rick here and Jesus is going to be in trouble! Do something!'

'I ain't leavin' Rick.' He growled; I was actually happy he was replying instead of ignoring me. I hated being ignored. 'Climb that ladder upstairs, they'll check this entire fuckin' place.'

I climbed the ladder as silently and quickly as I could; at least I still knew how to climb a fucking ladder. Daryl climbed right next to me, and I crawled in the direction of the biggest window up here. The glass was broken, so we could hear the conversation and see everything pretty easily. Daryl was on the right side of the window while I was on the left side. We exchanged a glance, and I realised that he was the only one who had a weapon. It's not like I could actually use a weapon to do anything, but I would feel safer if I had something on me. The Saviors were still outside; they hadn't searched the main buildings, the barn nor the houses yet. They were just randomly pointing the guns to people.

'He likes this.'

'What?' Daryl growled.

'He likes this.' I repeated, looking to the scene outside and avoiding Daryl's glances. When I talk to people, I usually stare at their noses or something. It's less awkward. Staring right in the eyes is way too awkward, but when it comes to Daryl I usually avoid looking at him _in general._ I wasn't even aware of his eye color yet. 'He's just trying to make them shit their pants; it's psychological horror, that's all.'

Daryl didn't respond.

My father was still leaned against one of the jeeps, smirking devilishly on his own spot. And for the first time in my life, I took a step back away from him; for the first time in my life, I realised I was looking at the devil himself. Negan looked fucking pissed - he looked dangerous. And for the first time in my life, I felt scared of him. He didn't bring me a peaceful sensation anymore nor a safety feeling; Instead, I felt like leaning towards Daryl - again-, so he could protect me. I was tired of leaning on everybody for protection.

'Is that yer father?' He whispered, and I simply nodded. 'What the fuck is that on his hand? Is that a fuckin' baseball bat?'

I nodded; this was sick. My cheeks were burning and I felt some damn second hand embarrassment; this was ridiculous.

'He kills people with that; I've never seen it, but I've heard from his wives that he bashes people's heads with it. He calls it... Lucille. As a girl, you know.'

Daryl scoffed when I finished my explanation. I heard him mutter a _"to hell with everythin'"_ under his breath and suddenly, his crossbow was aiming right towards my father's head.

'Daryl?! What the fuck?!' I squealed, putting myself in front of the aim. 'What do you think you're doing?!'

'I'mma end this fuckin' thing right now.' He growled and pushed me aside, making me almost fall on my back. 'I kill the fuckin' guy and this all ends here.'

'Are you fucking stupid?!' I felt something in my heart; it was ridiculous, but I didn't want my father dying in front of me, not like this. I wanted to say goodbye first. I wanted to tell him all the things he did wrong and why he did them wrong. I wanted to be the last person to see him alive. And I needed answers! I needed answers about whoever Carol was, I needed answers about my mother, and I needed to know why he became like this; I needed to know what changed him, what turned him into a monster. But Daryl was strong, and smart, and he wouldn't surely let me try to talk him out of it. 'What if you miss? What if you fuck the whole plan up?'

'I _never_ miss.'

'What if you do this time?' I was a stubborn little bitch, yeah. But my dad couldn't die. Not like this, not today. 'You kill him and the Saviors blow this entire thing down to ashes. We don't want that, so chill the fuck out. We're all in danger right now, including Jesus!'

Daryl growled under his breath; I could hear a lot of cussing coming out of his mouth, but it wasn't like I cared. I took another glance outside, and I noticed that my hands were shaking. My dad exchanged a look with the Saviors, and they nodded.

'I want every fucking soul on this shitty community right here, right in front of me.' He yelled, and I felt like the world was opening under my feet and swallowing me whole. I have been so blind, ignoring all the signs and the deaths around me; thinking that he was a good person, that all the shit talk about him were nothing but rumors... but they weren't. He was a bad person. He wasn't my father. Paul soon appeared in front of him, and my heart ached. A few other people from the community were soon reunited near my father, and I noticed some kids among them. This was even worse that I thought. I was in the verge of tears, and then I heard Daryl behind me.

'Don't make a fuckin' noise if something happens.' He growled; I only realised his crossbow was resting on my shoulder when I felt his voice so close to my ear. 'Ya make a noise, I shoot him in the fuckin' head. And I don't care if he kills yer little boyfriend.'

I really wanted to punch him in the face, but I didn't want to get my hands dirty.

'Sir?' I heard Jesus asking, his eyebrows raised and his hair everywhere. He looked confused, and mostly really scared and not really understanding what was going on. 'Was there anything wrong with what we sent you yesterday? We sent you everything, didn't we?''

'Of course you fucking did.' I was frozen in my spot when Negan started caressing Lucille with his left hand. I felt like throwing up. 'You've been such a fucking good boy Paul, I want to give your family a reward for everything you've done for us!' He smirked, and Paul grew smaller on his spot. I swallowed, _hard;_ I couldn't believe that monster was my father. 'I want all your fucking friends kneeling in front of me; we need to have a fucking chat. It's gonna be so much fucking fun, you don't wanna fucking miss it for nothing.'

I glanced at Daryl; a sob came out of my mouth.

'We need to do something. We can't just stay here and watch!'

'Ya move, I kill him and yer little boyfriend. I'm not fuckin' joking Mathilda. T _his ain't a motherfuckin' game.'_

Daryl was the worst person I've ever met. I tried to held back the tears, knowing there was no way I could stop what was about to happen. Maybe Rick would figure something out, he was smart enough to trick my father into one of his plans. But maybe I was hoping for too much.

I could see Jesus' forehead covered in sweat and dust; he kneeled down, looking like a 5 year old. Negan looked so powerful, he looked like the king of the world right now. And maybe he was. Maybe he liked that feeling, the feeling of being on top of everyone and everything. He was never like that in the past.

'Paul, my dear Paul...' He started, bouncing Lucille on his hands. I was shaking, and adrenaline was pumping through my veins; I needed to do something, I wanted to do something - but Daryl was holding me tight with a gun on his hand. There was nothing I could do to help him. And it destroyed me; it destroyed because I wouldn't be able to help someone who literally saved my life. 'I'm here to request your fucking help. Not because I fucking want to, but because I feel like you might be the only one who knows how to help me.'

Jesus swallowed hard.

'How so, sir?'

Negan chuckled.

'I think your fucking community has something that belongs to me.' He knew. Fuck. I took a step back, but Daryl's body wouldn't let me move. Jesus was taken back by Negan's statement. But he had always been fearless. And he never knew when he was supposed to bite his tongue.

'What do you mean? We didn't steal anything for you. Don't you think _you_ 've already stolen enough from us?'

_He had crossed the line._

'Listen to me, you fucking fag.' Lucille was soon resting on Jesus' chin, making him stare into my dad's dangerous eyes. Negan was on fire. 'You don't fucking mess with me or my people. You cross the line one time, we make sure you and your people wish you were all fucking dead. Did I make myself fucking clear?'

Jesus gulped. I could see the drops of sweat running through his face down his forehead.

He knew he had fucked up.

'Yes, sir. I'm sorry.' Negan smirked. 'But what was that thing that was stolen from you?'

There were a few seconds of silence.

'My fucking daughter.' He growled, and Daryl's body tensed behind me. My body tensed as well just by hearing him talking about me. 'And I'm pretty sure that one of your men fucking stole her from me. I'm gonna find him and I'm gonna eat his hands for breakfast.'

I could feel Daryl's slow breaths somewhere around my neck; I, on the other side, couldn't breathe; I just wanted things to be over. Negan had finally realised that I was gone, and he was more than crazy: _he was fucking insane_. Jesus nodded frantically.

'You have my word that we'll find your daughter, sir. I'm really sorry about what happened to you.'

Negan laughed out loud, sending shivers down my spine.

'You can fucking bet your people's heads that I'm going to be here tomorrow looking for her. I'm gonna shit all over this fucking place if I fucking have to.'

Paul nodded again, while his people were shaking on their knees. I could hear some children crying and some women whimpering in fear.

'We'll do anything to find her, sir. I bet she's okay.'

'I'm really fucking glad we sorted this whole shit out.' Negan laughed again, sounding like a damn maniac, and I breathed in relief. But I felt kind of... weird? He wouldn't let things go that easily. I thought he would go nuts once he found out I wasn't there. He looked way too calm, and Lucille looked way too clean...'Now, Paul, I'm going to ask you the most important question of your entire life. You might screw up everything, so be fucking careful with your words.'

Jesus' hair was falling onto his face, covering his whole expression. Was he crying? Was he calm? I could barely see it.

'Do you think you can be fucking honest with your leader?'

'Yes.'

'Yes f _ucking what?'_

Negan growled, and I screamed internally; my father was rubbing Lucille on Jesus' face gently, without letting her cut him. This was just another of his games. This would be fine. We should be fine.

'Yes, _sir._ ' Jesus was finally able to say it.

Negan laughed out loud, showing his teeth.

'I'm going to ask the question... Are y'all fucking ready?!' He yelled, and the children cried more and the women whimpered more; I leaned towards Daryl again. 'Do you pricks have anything to do with my daughter's disappearance? 'Cuz if you have... oh man...' He chuckled darkly on the end of the sentence, and right there and then, I knew we were fucked.

'I don't know what you're talking about, sir. I'm sorry.' Jesus was a terrible liar. Daryl was growling in my ear, and I knew that dad hadn't fallen for that one. He chuckled again, and he rubbed Lucille one more time.

'Okie dokie...' He chuckled. 'I'm going to ask you one more fucking time, and you can bet your ass this is the last time I'm going to ask you...' He kneeled in front of Jesus, and I closed my eyes in fear. _'Where did you hide my fucking daughter?'_

'I had no idea you had a daughter, sir.' Jesus replied even more calmly, even though Lucille was right next to his face again. 'But I promise you we'll do our best to find her.'

They exchanged glances again. My father got up on his knees. I breathed out in relief.

'That was a good answer, Paul... That was a hell of a fucking answer... You won the battle, man, you really did...'

Father had his back turned to us; he glanced at the Saviors.

'Steal everything you can find and burn this whole thing down to ashes.' The Saviors cheered happily, and I could almost hear the screams of everybody at Hilltop. Daryl got up on his knees, ready to get the fuck out of there, but I stayed there at the window. We needed to help Jesus and Rick, but I was paralyzed.

'Mathilda!' He yelled at me over the sound of the screams and the walker groans. 'We need to fuckin' leave! Move ya ass!'

Negan, who was kneeling in front of a really sad Jesus, laughed out loud.

'You know what, you fucking moron?' Jesus looked at him, and even though I could see his eyes, I knew he was crying. I couldn't see his eyes, but I could definitely see my father's maniac eyes. 'I know what you fucking did. You took the only thing I had left away from me; you took my fucking daughter, didn't you?' Jesus shook his head. Negan didn't believe it. And I didn't believe that that man was my father. 'You took everything I had away me, you little fucker.' He spitted on Jesus' face, and then he laughed out loud. _'Now get the fuck out of my way, you fucking loser.'_

Daryl covered my mouth, muffling my screams, knowing what was coming.

I was seeing _red._

I wasn't seeing red because I was mad.

_I was seeing red because my father was smashing Jesus' head right in front of me,_

and the blood was _red,_

the floor was _red,_

Jesus' head was _red,_

Lucille was _red,_

_and my fucking tears tasted red._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm really sorry about this chapter.  
> i'm also really tired, so excuse me if there are some mistakes; i'll correct everything later.  
> you might notice that daryl is acting weird, but you'll figure out why eventually.  
> don't forget to leave your opinion on the comments, and it would be awesome if we could reach 15 kudos. thank you for everything, y'all amazing. see y'all on the next chapter, have a nice night!!


	6. 5. the judge.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shit has barely hit the fan yet, and Mathilda is already freaking out.

> _«when the leader of the bad guys sang, something soft and soaked in pain, i heard the echo from his secret hideaway - he must have forgot to close his door.»_   
>  _twenty one pilots - the judge._
> 
>  

Back at school - when there was still a government that made kids go to school -, she always felt like people were whispering behind her back; she never understood why they would that to her. She had always been nice to everyone, she had always smiled on the right times and comforted people on the right moments. Hell, she _was_ a good person. Why would people whisper about her? Why would everyone talk shit behind each other's backs?  
The middle of the apocalypse was no different from school, though - Rick and Daryl were indeed talking shit about her behind her back.  
But it didn't matter, not anymore - she was too dead to listen, too numb to react, and her brain was too fair away to understand what was going on.   
When Jesus died, she died with him.

But the two men whispering on the middle of the road had no idea how gone she already was.

'He just started a riot, he killed their leader in front of them.' Rick stated, rubbing his forehead and glancing at the broken girl sitting inside the car; she indeed looked insane, and she definitely had a reason to. Negan was indeed powerful, and it reminded Rick of the Governor and his inspirational speechs. But there was something about Negan... something that brought him into a whole new level of insanity and danger. 'We can't control these people, they barely respected us before all of this. Now they think we're weak and that we can't protect them.'

'Ya think they got the balls to attack Alexandria?'

Daryl lit up a cigarette and leaned against the car. He knew Rick feared Negan, but Daryl had always been different. He had never been afraid of a guy on a leather jacket before, why would he be now?   
He couldn't help but feel that he was the one to blame. He could have ended everything by killing him on the spot, but the girl asked him not to. And even though he didn't give a shit about her feelings or about her wishes, he didn't want to kill her father in front of her either. That would have been much better than watching Jesus being beaten to death, but Daryl was no fortune teller. There was no way he would know that would happen in front of their eyes.  
He wasn't scared of this Negan guy before, but after watching him bash Jesus' head to the ground, he should be scared - damn, he knew he should be shitting his pants, _but he wasn't._ Negan wasn't as tough as he wanted people to believe him. He was just a smart guy who always had the right words and this aura of leadership surrounding him, something that made people fear him and want to be on his side. His tough words, his rough voice and his bad ass posture - it was all an act to cover up the real piece of shit of a coward that he was. But Daryl wasn't buying that shit. _Fuck no._ He had dealt with people like Negan for years of his life before the apocalypse and they all ended up getting killed after crushing weaker people behind their shoes; after all, karma's a bitch.  
Besides, Daryl wasn't scared of dying; _there was no point on living anymore anyway._

'They don't have the resources nor the strength so we should be fine. But if we want a deal with them, we need to have them on our side. We don't want them joining Negan and burning Alexandria to the ground. They know too much about us.'

Daryl raised his eyebrows, exhaling the constricted smoke out of his lungs.

'Ya want to kill 'em all? They're all pussies, the guy shows up with his bat again and they all melt into the ground. They ain't keepin' their mouths shut.'

Rick rubbed his forehead again and glanced at the girl sitting inside the car.  
What if it was Carl inside that car, broken inside because Rick had just been killed?  
But that could happen everyday, every hour, even in the normal world. You could get hit by a car, you could have a heart attack and _bam_ \- you would be gone. Today was _no_ different.  
But at the same time, it _was_ different. And Rick didn't know what to do.

  
When Jesus told him that he was friends with Negan's daughter, the sheriff thought that she would be a spoiled little brat with an attitude problem and that she would get them all killed, but she was exactly the opposite. She was quiet, nice, _weak_ , and she was always ready to help Denise and the others around her. But she was also conflicted. She reminded him of himself a few years ago when Shane and Lori were still alive. He loved his best friend to death, but deep down Rick knew he deserved to be dead after everything he had done. At first, the sheriff thought that he was no God, he couldn't decide whether people should live or die, but God had left them all alone by themselves. So he was the one to make the call.  
And when he did make the call and he stabbed Shane, he knew right there and then that he would never be the same man - but he would be alive. They couldn't both live on a world like this anymore.   
And Mathilda knew that Negan should be dead, but the thought of having her father dead scared her to death. Daryl had told him what happened back at the farm when he tried to shoot Negan - she begged him not to. She was confused, she was scared, but mostly, she was _scarred._

'We can't shut their mouths either, Daryl.' Rick responded. 'These people aren't bad; they're just scared and they want to save their ass. But they saw us; they know who she is and they can do a lot with that information. They can mess our whole plan up.'

Daryl was tired of making decisions. And the problems never seemed to end.

'What's the point on keepin' the girl, anyway?' He shrugged. 'We had a fuckin' deal. Maggie would be on charge of Alexandria if somethin' happened to Jesus. He's gone, _their shit is our shit now_. No point on killin' the guy and gettin' into trouble anymore.'

Rick felt conflicted; Daryl was right though. Their deal was to kill Negan, keep Hilltop safe and then they would share resources. But Jesus was dead, Maggie literally owned Hilltop and Negan had already found out that the girl was missing.   
Yet, he also knew that Hilltop had something to do with it - _and if Hilltop's shit was Alexandria's shit, then they were buried in shit to the neck._

'He said he would be back.' Rick replied. 'What if he comes back and he kills Maggie? He already killed one leader, he might kill another.'

'That's why we should fuckin' drive the girl down there and leave her with her ol' man. That's where she fuckin' belongs.'

Rick seemed to disagree; just because they were best friends and both good leaders it didn't mean they couldn't disagree. They did disagree in a lot of things, and this subject was no different. While Daryl didn't feel anything towards the girl, Rick did feel something; pity, maybe, but there was something. Mathilda deserved better.

'Why?'

Daryl raised his eyebrow and scoffed; he knew Rick had something on his mind.

'Cuz he's her fuckin' father, that's all. _His daughter, his damn problem._ '

And Daryl knew, right there and then, that he had fucked up.  
Rick's eyes were on flames.

'Do you think that Judith belongs with Shane just because she's his daughter?'

Daryl chocked on the smoke he still had on his lungs and he started coughing like a mad man. His eyes were soon full of tears due to the smoke.

'Christ, what the fuck? We ain't talkin' 'bout Lil' Ass Kicker. Ya'll full of shit.'

'It's a legit question, Daryl. Do you think Judith is growing up to be like Shane? Do you think that Judith was Shane's problem?' Rick wouldn't let Daryl interrupt him and talk, though. Rick _wanted_ to stand up for his beliefs. 'Then why did you help her in the first place, when I was insane? You were the first one to step up and save her.'

Rick knew that Judith's was one of Daryl's weaknesses. He loved the little girl to death, and maybe she would be a great point of comparison between Mathilda's reality and Judith's reality. They were the same, after all.

'She's a baby, for christ's sake.' Daryl scoffed darkly, his fringe falling into his eyes. He was covered in sweat, he was hungry and the conversation wasn't helping. 'And Shane wasn't carryin' a bat wrapped in wire around, he was jus' a little bitch.'

'And I had to kill the little bitch.' Rick replied. 'But I refused to kill his daughter, because _blood does not mean love._ ' He rubbed his forehead again, and he looked up to the sky. Sometimes he really hated to be a leader. 'Daryl, we can't turn her in. She's just like Judith, man.'

'Judith's a baby, and last time I checked she ain't no baby. She ain't even a child in a world like this.'

Daryl was so cold. Rick had noticed that he grew colder ever since _that_ had happened. But it was getting out of limits. His attitude, his dark voice, the fact that he refused to own a house in Alexandria... Daryl was losing control of himself.

'She's a person Daryl, get a fucking grip!' Rick raised his voice a little bit, but he regretted it immediately; he didn't want Mathilda to hear them, not after she lost someone so important to her. Rick was a roller coaster of feelings and thoughts; on the beginning of the apocalypse, he cared a whole damn lot about people's dignity, about feelings, about life like it used to be; after he killed his best friend and lost Lori, he became a killer machine. His life was all about ups and downs, but after so much shit he learned how to handle the downs and how to be happy with the ups. That's what life was about: ups and downs, crying, laughing - _surviving._ Dying for the ones we love; that seemed a good way to go, on Rick Grimes' opinion. Rick wouldn't let this kid alone, not after what she just saw. She deserved better than a world surrounded by her psychopath of a father. But he was running out of options to persuade Daryl, so he did the expected. 'Don't forget that she's Carol's kid, Daryl. Carol would want you to protect her at all costs.'

It hit Daryl; Rick could see it on his eyes that it had hit him. He knew it would. He threw a glance at him, raising his eyebrow, and scoffed; now he was mad.

'Carol ain't here right now. And we don't even know if that's fuckin' true.' Rick was about to reply - _again_ -, when Daryl snapped. 'Look, I'll do whatever the fuck ya want me to. Jus' ask away. I don't give a flyin' fuck anymore anyway.'

Rick was sad; he was sad that his best friend had grew to be this heartless, tired and depressed man, but he couldn't do anything for him. He already had the world in his shoulders. Daryl would have to find a purpose to live by himself.

'I want you to take her with you. You protect her, you train her, you teach her something.' He knew he was crossing the line with the redneck; it would be rough for both of them, Rick knew that, but it was their only option of getting alive. 'She's completely clueless about the world outside and she's full of hatred right now. She wants revenge. She might leave Alexandria and get into trouble. And we need to keep her until the end - you saw the guy, she's his only weakness.'

Daryl got really quiet for a moment. It made sense, of course. She couldn't stay in Hilltop - her father would find her, or she would get killed by the dwellers; she couldn't stay in Alexandria either, it wasn't safe for her, nor for Judith, nor for the residents and it didn't make sense. Both Rick and Daryl knew Negan would visit Alexandria and try to make them surrender, and that there would be a hell of a fight.  
Mathilda was their treasure. And in a world like this, you can't be too proud or show off your treasures.

'How long?' He asked. Rick smiled internally; he had won.

'A few weeks, maybe. I'll meet you there regularly and I'll keep you updated. I was thinking about that cabin that Michonne found. It's not too far away, but it's secure and it's in a good place. There's lots of water around and there's a forest... you can hunt...'

'Stop tryin' to buy me, I'll do it.' Daryl rolled his eyes, and Rick chuckled. 'I don't even fuckin' care anymore. As long as she keeps her fuckin' mouth shut, I'll live with it.'

Rick chuckled.

'Thank you, Daryl. Really.' He stopped for a second, and both brothers looked at each other in the eye. 'It means a lot to me.'

'Ya don't have to save everyone, Rick.' Daryl said quietly. Rick knew there was something wrong with him, something he couldn't quite understand what. He wasn't... he wasn't Daryl. _He was different._ 'Ya think ya are responsible for everyone...' He shook his head. 'Ya ain't. She ain't nothin' to ya.'

Rick didn't reply.   
There was no point on replying, anyway. Daryl had agreed and that was it. There was no turning back now.

'We need to talk to her.' He looked up, and sighed. 'It's getting dark, you two should head out as soon as you can. I don't want her to come back to Alexandria today. I'll get your stuff tomorrow.'

Daryl nodded.

'I'm goin' with her, but I ain't doin' the talkin'. Good luck with that.'

Rick didn't know how to deal with grief. He has never been good at it, and the end of the world didn't help him at all. He thought it would, since he was used to watch people getting killed in front of him, but it had made things a lot worse. He glanced at the car again; she was still sitting on the same position, and Rick sighed at the view of dried tears covering her face. Her hands were covered in dirt, her arms were scratched and her hair was falling down into her face. She was a mess.  
Rick slowly made his way towards the car door and opened it calmly not wanting to scare her. She didn't even move when Rick knelled next to her.

'Mathilda?' He called out softly, but she didn't answer. She didn't even move her head nor her body. He wasn't sure if she heard. 'How are you feeling?' There was no response, again.

  
Daryl rolled his eyes. What the fuck was Rick expecting? She just lost the only person in the world she cared about. She was still in shock. Daryl wasn't properly happy with the thought of having a ghost travelling and living with him, but at least she wasn't talking. _It would be a lot worse if she was talking._  
Rick glanced at him begging for help, but the long haired man shrugged his shoulders; Rick was the one with kids, the one who was capable of dealing with the youngsters. Daryl didn't care enough to be able to do it.

  
After a few minutes of silence, Mathilda finally talked.  
She wasn't properly talking; it was more like a groan mixed with a high pitched, dark voice.

_'I want him dead.'_

Rick swallowed hard, and eyed Daryl again.  
Daryl knew the feeling; he knew the feeling of wanting someone dead.

'Revenge makes you weak. You don't...'

 _'I'm going to kill him.'_ Again; a stoic, calm, deadly voice tone. She didn't look the same person. It hit Rick like a rock; her eyes looked empty, and she surely did look mad. Had she gone insane? What was he supposed to do?  
Suddenly, Rick had an idea. He sighed, and looked at the girl right on the eye.

'You know something?' She didn't answer; she just stared. 'I used to feel sorry for kids that have to grow up now... _in this._ But I think I got it wrong. Growing up is getting used to the world. This is easier for them; for you.'

Maybe it was. Daryl had no idea, and neither did Mathilda. She didn't remember much of the world before all of this anyway, but she knew for sure that there hadn't been a knot on her stomach, a lump on her throat nor the feeling of wanting to be dead before.  
She hadn't cried yet; she hadn't cried for hours yet because she was still in shock, the images repeating itselves without permission in her head. She didn't even try to block them; she needed to fully understand what happened. She needed to understand the monster her father was.  
She lost him.  
She lost him forever, and he had gone the worst way possible.  
And it was all her fault.  
She wanted to be alone with her thoughts, but Rick wouldn't let her. He proceeded with his story after clearing his throat.

'When I was a kid... I asked my grandpa once if he ever killed any Germans in the war. He wouldn't answer. He said that was grown-up stuff.' Mathilda almost chuckled. Her dad used to tell her the same damn thing. She was so numb; too numb, but she was listening. 'So... so I asked if the Germans ever tried to kill him. But he got real quiet. He said he was dead the minute he stepped in to enemy territory.' Mathilda was a smart girl; she had always been a romantic kid who loved deep thoughts and to engage in deep conversations. She knew where that was going. Oh damn, she surely did. Rick carried on. 'And then after a few years of pretending he was dead... _he made it out alive._ That's the trick of it, I think. We do what we need to do and then, we get to live. But no matter what you find on your way, I know we'll be okay; I know you will be okay. Because this is how we survive. We tell ourselves... that we are the walking dead.' He swallowed hard. ' _But we aren't_ ; we don't have to be. We can be different. But if you want to survive, you need to _pretend_ you're like them.'

'I don't think I will get to live enough time to learn how to pretend to be like them.' That was all she managed to mutter out, holding back the tears. 'After what he has done... I'm not... I-I can't go back to him. Ple-please, don't make me. I-I don't want to. Rick, please.'

  
Now she was on the verge of freaking out. Rick held her strongly by the elbows, and Daryl thought how the fuck he would be able to handle a fucking teenager for a few weeks by himself.

'Hey, hey, calm down!' Rick held her tightly, and locked her eyes with hers. 'You're not going back to him. You can't stay on Hilltop, but you aren't staying on Alexandria either. You're going with Daryl somewhere... somewhere safer, somewhere where you can learn how to protect yourself. _Somewhere where you can learn how to pretend.'_

She gripped her shirt harder.

'There's no point on protecting myself. _He's dead._ There's no point.'

Rick didn't answer.  
 _There was no point on answering._  
He gave her a reassuring squeeze on the arm, and got up on his feet. He dragged Daryl by the elbow away from the car, so they could have a more private conversation.

'I'm going back to Hilltop. You can take this car, I'll just ask for another. Do you think you can make it?'

Daryl shrugged.

'It's jus' for a few days. We'll be jus' fine.'

Rick dragged Daryl into an unexpected hug.

'You're more than my best friend, man. You're my brother, and I owe you my life.'

'Ya don't owe me shit.' Daryl replied, and took a cigarette out of his pocket. 'Make sure ya'll make it out alive. That's all I'm askin'.'

However, Rick and Daryl weren't aware of the fact that a shadow was hearing their conversation hiding in the forest.  
The only clue _it_ left behind was a **S** carved in the nearest tree.

~-~-~-~-

Daryl drove.  
He was driving as fast as he could in order to get out of the fucking car as soon as possible. It was awkward.   
He had been travelling with Rick for so many years that it stopped being awkward; it wasn't awkward with Michonne, it wasn't awkward with Aaron, _hell_ , it wasn't awkward when he was by himself. But it was surely awkward being on a car with a teenage girl who had just lost someone, who was weak and who had no idea about the pile of shit that the world was out there.  
It wasn't like he knew everything; fuck, he had no idea about what the hell was going on sometimes either, but he made an effort. He made an effort to grow stronger with the years, and he surely did.   
_People made Daryl weaker;_ having to protect people made him weaker, and she would surely make him weaker. He was a survivor, he wasn't a teacher. Surviving isn't something you can teach - you just survive. It's not written in books.

'Just tell me... What now?'

Her voice came out muffled, high-pitched and emotional. Daryl wasn't expecting it - he was aware of her presence, but he certainly didn't expect her to talk to him. But she did talk; he wished she hadn't.  
He looked behind carefully, but she wasn't looking at him. Her head was buried on her knees, her hair was everywhere and she was a mess, sitting on the backseat of a stranger's car.  
For the first time on her life, she was alone. She was alone on someone's car, driving somewhere she had no idea where - she was thrown to a pile of shit.  
Daryl was no good with world nor feelings, but he did know what to say this time.

'Rest in peace - now get up, and go to war.'

_And she did go to war._

~--~-

Carl Grimes heard screams.  
And gunshots.  
He wouldn't be surprised if he had heard the terrible sounds a few years ago, right before they found Alexandria. Everything was hopeless back then.  
But they had found Alexandria - they were safe.  
At least that was what they thought.  
Carl was outside when he saw _them._  
People being eaten and bitten by _them._  
People trying to run away from _them._  
 _Them._  
 _Them._  
 _Them_ everywhere.  
Carl cocked his gun and ran towards the unknown.  
He didn't make it in time, though - _Alexandria had already been conquered by the dead._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> firstly, i'm so fucking sorry. i was supposed to update yesterday, but i'm SO tired. i've been revising for exams and it's killing me, i had a lot of stuff i had to add to the chapter yesterday and i was going to do it and publish, but i literally!! fell!! asleep!! in!! my!! laptop!! i'm so sorry. here goes your update. i'll correct the mistakes later, i have to go do some revision lmao.
> 
> anyway, thank you so much for your support! don't forget to leave a comment bellow, and kudos are always appreciated!! see y'all on the next chapter!!


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